P-34
by summersatellite
Summary: Petra is a fine lieutenant- capable, strong, and loyal. She could conquer Earth with her hands behind her back. Her talent is wasted in a mistake that sends her to Zim's front door- but maybe this tragic misuse of resources could be Petra's shot at becoming more than just a tool for the empire. (This is based mostly on the show, but there are elements of the comic as well. Enjoy!)
1. Imprint

The park was too dark, too quiet. Everything felt dark and quiet without him. She was sure that it was only the imprint acting up again but she couldn't help but feel a hole where something important used to be. For months she'd break into a frantic, panicked search for _something_ but she could never remember what it was or where she'd left it. No matter where she looked or what she did, she always found herself looking in the sky for the lost part of her. She knew it was him, but she didn't want to believe it.

Tonight she was looking among the stars for her lost master, sitting on a bench in that park she always went through when he ordered her out on some midnight snack run. Everything hurt. Everything always hurt now. She spotted a slowly moving shooting star among the stray twinkles and made a wish. It was a foolish human tradition, wishing on stars. Half the time they were helicopters and airplanes, and no meteor could answer to a child's whims. But still she prayed. She asked only to feel normal again, to go home and not feel empty. To work and not feel the overwhelmingly cold presence of no one beside her. _At least,_ she asked, _you could at least let me believe he's gone._

Suddenly a new, hot emotion flooded her body. Anger. How _dare_ he make her hurt? It was just like him, that self-centered egomaniac. He would have drunk this up. If he was here he would only stroke his ego and soak up her pain like praise. It's not like she wanted to care; she was built to. If she ever saw that idiot she'd kill him. She huffed and prepared to leave when she realized that the star was getting bigger. Closer. That was no shooting star.

That was a crashing ship.

She suddenly felt a blazing heat shoot over her head and crash somewhere in the wooded area behind her. A rush of hot blood revived her corpse and sent her flying in the direction of the ship. Her distress and emotional interference were disrupting her holo disguise, but she could care less. Tripping, running, and stumbling into the clearing where the cruiser had fallen. The scene was a flaming, smoking mess. It wasn't the heat that seared her, though; it was the open top. The ship was empty.

Then she was angry again. Somebody sent this to remind her that he was gone and that she was weak. She was built to serve one and now they were gone. _If I ever see that moron alive I really_ will _kill him,_ she thought. _I'll wring his stupid neck and throw his PAK into a garbage disposal._

* * *

"Has Invader Flobee's lieutenant arrived yet?" Tallest Red inquired through a mouthful of doughnut. He didn't even turn away from the control screen as he asked the team of scientists behind him.

"Y-yes, My Tallest. Lieutenant Invader Q-95 has arrived safely to the planet." A nervous Irken replied. He was promptly hit on the side of the head, because he was clearly too short to be speaking so casually to the Almighty Tallest.

"How about Larb and Skutch? What did they get again?" he replied.

"Lieutenant Invaders M-18 and S-40 have also landed safely and reported back." answered a taller, more worthy scientist.

"What about Zim? Who did he get?" chortled Tallest Purple. Tallest Red began to laugh with him; they'd planned to send the crappiest lieutenant to him. It was the same lowbrow humor they'd used when giving him that rustbucket of a SIR unit, but then again Zim wasn't really the image of sophisticated humor.

The Tallest were distracted by the sudden clamour of the group behind them. They sounded panicked, which quickly set Purple on edge. He wasn't the greatest under pressure, but he _was_ pretty tall. "What are all you whispering about back there?" Red asked in annoyance, glancing back.

To his surprise, the head scientist looked angry. "Where's that irking shipment drone idiot? Get him in here immediately." she whispered-yelled, barely concealing her rage. When she noticed Red looking back at her she immediately cleared her throat and fixed her posture. "My Tallest, it appears there's been a… a mistake."

Purple had gone from anxious to ticked off in a matter of seconds. "What do you mean, a _mistake?_ "

"Do you remember the top experiment? P-34?"

"Yes of course I remember P-34, it was top of its class," Purple retorted, clearly offended. "It was supposed to go to Invader Skutch…" All at once the green paled in his face as he looked back to his co-ruler. Red rose off the couch and towered over the inferiorly sized Irkens.

"Where is P-34, Min?"

The head scientist smiled nervously and tugged at her triangular collar. "I-I am getting the shipment drone in now, My Tallest, to bring the records-" A widely built, slightly greasy Irken in a red shipment department uniform came rushing in the doorway with a screen under his arm. He froze in place when he saw Tallest Red leering, and very quickly he wiggled his antennae in salute before nervously half-jogging over to the group. Red impatiently snatched the screen away and scrolled through the files, earning the shipment drone's nervous whimper.

"Where are these coordinates? This isn't planet Vort. Give me this invader!" he roared, throwing the small screen down to one of the Irkens below the platform. He turned back to the drone with malice. Purple was up now too, hanging threateningly over them all. "You'd better get P-34 back _right now._ "

"I-I'm so sorry My Tallest, I can't turn the shipment bot around, it's too far to change its coordinates from here-"

"Then go and _get_ it you tiny moron. These lieutenant experiments are precious cargo, we can't afford an enemy getting ahold of it and making more,"

"All the packages should have arrived by now, P-34's probably already began imprinting at the very least," a scientist mumbled to himself, clearly engulfed in a panic. "If someone gets it and doesn't use it right-"

"Look, it's mostly Irken, it's not just gonna go nuts when it hits the ground. You remember P-34, it's smart and mostly docile. We just… have to be careful and get it back before it imprints, okay?" the small scientist from before gently patted his panicked friend's PAK.

"Uh, My Tallest, we've found the invader at the planet that the coordinates go to," called a worker from below. The Tallest turned their fuming heads to the screen, their jaws slackened with surprise. On the screen was a picture of an all-too familiar invader.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

* * *

"Intruder-" the computer began warn, and the tiny Irken excitedly scrambled from the couch to the door. He knew the Tallest would be sending his lieutenant invader soon, but the distance from the Massive's location delayed the arrival substantially. Many invaders had already gotten theirs, he had noticed, and had conquered their planets somehow with their clearly inferior skills. He opened the door, and to his surprise and excitement, his package had arrived. The long metal tube was sitting on his doorstep, and he used all his strength to pull it inside.

His antennae twitched with excitement as he hurriedly signed the digital form on the front and the small screen changed to a cartoon with a play button. Sufficiently distracted, Zim pressed play and GIR wandered into the room and began to watch the video from a distance. A cheesy yet cheery tune emanated from the tiny screen as a cartoonish Irken scientist popped up in the corner.

"Hello lucky invader! Your dedication, accomplishment, and sufficient progress have led you to this moment! You will be receiving your lieutenant invader, which is an honor that only the invaders with the most difficult of planets receive."

A cartoon invader with his lieutenant appeared behind the scientist. "Your lieutenant invader will remove many of the stresses that plagued you before, and you may now fully focus on conquering and leading the invasion and organic sweep of the filthy beings on your planet. Lieutenants will prepare your food, protect you, patrol your borders, do your experiments, build for you, and have been specially prepared to fit your height and needs." The invader smiled triumphantly over a conquered planet with his lieutenant standing obediently by his side.

The invader was now on a battlefield, wounded with only his lieutenant and a monster towering over him. "Operation Impending Doom II is different in that your lieutenants have been genetically modified to wield do the work and hold the strength of sixty lieutenants that will protect you at all costs and have been trained extensively in strategy, battle, medical care, science, survival, and stealth." The lieutenant transformed into a tall, leering, dark figure that scared the monster away, and then proceeded to heal his master. The invader, once healed, gave an excited hooray and plunked his Irken flag into the soil. _Not bad at all,_ Zim thought. _I could use a trusted companion- preferably one that can keep up with my incredible intellect._

"You have been issued Lieutenant Invader [P-34], or [Petra]. Here is its accomplishments and history."

With that, the video cut off and a list was displayed on screen. _Top of its class, strongest, bravest, most intelligent..._ "This is perfect for me!" Zim cried, quickly pressing accept. To his disappointment, though, the capsule did not open. It only provided him with another video. Zim grumbled and pressed play again. The lieutenant was by himself now, and the scientist was standing next to him.

"Because of the incredible abilities we've given your lieutenant, they consume a lot of energy, fast! Without a proper source of energy and access to resources, your lieutenant could die!" The little Irken on screen fell over, dead. "If you allow this to happen, you will be terminated for lack of responsibility and deemed unfit to conquer." The invader walked in, shocked, and then immediately fell over. Although comical in nature, Zim could still feel a cold shiver of fear run through him. Surely this thing would be self sufficient enough to care for itself?

"So please, be careful and look after [P-34], or else! Happy invading, soldiers!" The video closed out, and _finally_ , the capsule split apart to reveal a long glass tube. In it was a floating Irken, suspended in cryogenic sleep gel. She appeared to be female, judging by her long lashes and curled antennae, and not an ugly one either. She had the lieutenant brand on her forehead, put on her by the school to make lieutenants recognizable. Her skin was a rather pleasing shade of muted celery green, but lots of ugly scars ran the lengths of her arms. Zim was wondering what could have possibly caused this when GIR gave an obnoxious giggle from behind him.

"Will you be quiet already? We can't have you ruining anything so soon after she's arrived," Zim was surprised at how easily _she_ came before _it._ Guess it didn't make much of a difference what you called her. GIR, in reply, only giggled some more and pointed back to the tube. Zim whipped his head around when he heard a small tap on the glass, and found a rather large pair of heather purple eyes focused on him. He, in a slight overreaction, screamed and leapt back. It was only after he'd stared a few moments that he noticed that she was pointing to something. A handle with a button near the edge of the glass.

Zim slowly reached over and pulled the handle. When he found it didn't open, he tried pressing the button and pulling, which worked. The cryo gel drained from the tube and into large pontoon like attachments on the side. Once the tube was empty, she pushed open the door and saluted Zim with a perfect posture. "Greetings, Invader Skutch. I am P-34, or if you prefer, I will answer to Petra. I am here to protect and serve you in any way possible, sir!"

Zim was pleased with her military style; however, one thing nagged at him. "I am _not_ Invader Skutch, lieutenant. I am the mighty ZIM and I'm surprised you didn't know on sight,"

Petra was taken aback- she thought they'd mixed up the photos. He definitely didn't _look_ like Invader Skutch. She did a quick scan with her ocular implants and determined that he was, in fact, Invader Zim. This was very wrong. "My deepest apologies Invader Zim, but I am assigned to Invader Skutch. Is this not planet Tetrox?"

Zim let out a laugh. Tetrox was inhabited by hyper intelligent ape-like creatures, and the inhabitants of Earth… they were more ape-like than hyper intelligent. "No, this is planet Earth and you were the lieutenant that I was sent. I expect you to keep up with me," he declared. "Computer, take the containment tube down to the lair and find a spot for it."

P-34 was more than nervous. She _had_ to call management- this could be disastrous for everyone involved. "Sir, I'm going to contact the Tallest about… my arrival." From the files she'd read, she knew Invader Zim was a quick-to-anger egomaniac. Referring to her arrival as an accident could set him off somehow.

"I was just about to send in my daily report- come along, Petra." Zim called to her as he stepped into the trash can in the kitchen and disappeared. P-34 was once more surprised as he used her slang name. She wasn't used to it at all- no one ever called her that at the academy, not even her few friends. To make up for the second she'd spent in shock, P-34 jumped down the bin and onto a small floating elevator floor. No, _Petra_ got into the elevator. It would be a name she'd have to get used to on this mission.

As they descended into the "lair" as Zim called it, _Petra_ sometimes spotted him standing below her in the reflections of pipes. _The makeup and layout of this "Earth" is so strange and primitive,_ she thought. Before dropping off her shipment tube on Invader Zim's doorstep, the drone had done a sweep of the planet and loaded the external appearance and common behaviors onto her PAK. All the people were so… oblivious. Petra was awoken from her thoughts as the ground disappeared, and the wide expanse of labs and control panels opened up before her. Most importantly, she spied the main computer to call the Tallest on.

Zim, reaching the floor first, immediately strode off to the computer she'd identified, with Petra not too far behind. She reached just as he finished asking the computer to place the call and almost immediately the call went up. It was surprising how quickly they pulled the call through, considering they were getting calls all the time and there was often a waiting list, but perhaps they'd put Zim as an invader. Or they thought he was so pathetic and loved to laugh at him so much, they put him on the priority list. Probably the latter.

"My Tallest!" Zim exclaimed, tilting his head and wiggling his antennae. Petra, being out of the frame, only watched on.

"Zim! Did you receive your lieutenant yet?" The Tallest appeared anxious, disheveled even. It was very odd to see them so much in a panic, especially since they really only appeared to care about humiliating smallers and eating all the sugar that would fit in their hands at one time.

"Yes, My Tallest! Lieutenant Petr- ah, P-34 has arrived," he stumbled, almost using her slang name. Zim gave her a small head nod and Petra sprang into action, quickly coming into frame and doing an Irken salute.

"My Tallest."

"Ah, yes, P-34. We've been looking for you. You were assigned to Invader Skutch, correct? On Tetrox?" Petra breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Tallest, she would be going to the correct Invader after all. Zim, however, seemed concerned. Was this not his lieutenant, gifted to him for his outstanding progress in conquering Earth?

"Yes, that is correct. I had thought that I had arrived on the incorrect planet, but seeing as I was in a cryo sleep I couldn't alert the shipment drone," Petra explained. "If I may ask, my Tallest, when will I be sent to the appropriate planet?" They did not reply, but instead gave each other a worried glance and looked back at the group of Irkens behind them. The head scientist Min, who Petra knew, piped in.

"P-34, are you aware of whether you have imprinted or not?"

"...Imprinted?"

"Yes."

Petra had no idea what they were talking about. She'd sometimes heard the term in passing, but it was never something they taught or spoke to anyone about. "My apologies, but I am afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Could you explain?"

Min looked very uncomfortable, like a smeet admitting that they had taken a sweet that wasn't theirs. Or maybe like someone telling a secret that shouldn't have been kept hidden in the first place. "Oh. Well. Ahem. You were likely not told, because it was never deemed necessary to teach, but upon exiting cryogenic sleep the first Irken you see will become your… master, for lack of a better word."

"Well of course, the first Irken we see will be our invader. What does this have to do with 'imprinting'?"

"Ah, no, you are not understanding. Your PAK is _programmed_ to accept the first Irken it meets to be your master. This ensures loyalty and is supposed to improve your relationship by attaching strong feelings of concern for their well being and an extreme protectiveness. Are you aware of whether you have imprinted or not?" Min repeated, speaking as though she was running out of time. "Screw it, send a PAK scanner through and have it tell me what the Irk is going on over there!" she exclaimed at someone below the platform.

The Navigators below did as she said and a metal cord lowered from the ceiling and attached to her PAK. A very jarring, cold, uncomfortable sensation spread throughout Petra's whole being as the cord rooted around through her memories. After about a minute the coil retracted and the scientist let out a prolonged groan. She quickly regained her composure and gave an innocent grin to the esteemed leaders. "It's already…"

The Tallest let out a frustrated groan in unison, quite unhappy with this latest development. Zim was rather pleased with himself, having had his lieutenant become attached or whatever so quickly. It was yet another display of his immeasurable and incredible invader skills. Petra was, as she had been doing since she woke up, having a small brain aneurysm because this never ending rollercoaster of events. Tallest Red sent a spine chilling glare out of the screen, and it was almost as uncomfortable as having her PAK rooted through. He finally released a resigned sigh and rubbed his temples.

"Okay, Zim. Just, uh, don't call us for the next few days. We have… a thing. An important one. Make written reports on the status of you and the lieutenant everyday and send them in. Every detail regarding P-34, actually. We'll call you first."

With that, the screen shot off to black, and Petra felt as though a large, imposing presence now left the lab crushingly empty. It was just her and her new invader. There was protocol for this to follow, and besides, now she had to go read up on imprinting and her new invader. From what she had already seen Petra knew that this mission was going to be a long, grueling one.

"Go, lieutenant. I'm busy with some experiments today- Computer, light a path to where you put the containment tube. Get yourself in uniform and I'll call for you if I require any assistance." Zim ordered haughtily. Outwardly he was cold and casual, but inside he was jubilant. He sounded so much like a leader- this wretched planet would kneel before the power of ZIM very soon, he could feel it. _Especially_ that Dib.

Petra automatically performed the arm salute used for all officials except the Tallest, and departed. She followed winding hallways with a light strip on the wall, finally leading her to her containment tube. The computer had placed it in what seemed like it was supposed to be her room. The thought of having her own room was overwhelming all of a sudden. Back at the academy students were tightly packed into barracks, simulating war-like conditions, and there was always someone (teacher or student) within an arm's reach. She hadn't expected to have a space at all, let alone one where she would be by herself.

It was a welcome surprise, though, and she smiled slightly to herself as she reached out to retrieve her uniform from the one storage pontoon on the side of her cryo tube. It was a blessing that she didn't have to wear the standard uniform like all the invaders. It was the academy uniform, and the obnoxious sleeves were as much an annoyance as they were an eyesore. They didn't suit Petra well at all, and she had no idea how some of her friends even managed to look decent in them.

The information in her PAK reminded her that humans find nudity to be offensive. Petra knew this, as it was _her_ PAK, but it was still a little surprising to be reminded. _I suppose it's fair enough,_ she thought. _Humans still have reproductive organs hanging about. I'd certainly cover myself if I was in that situation,_ she thought in repulse. The simple idea of any Irken dangly bits was inefficient and disgusting- Petra would be sure to do everyone the courtesy of modesty if worst came to worst.

She pulled the black, toeless leggings on and pulled the high-collared shirt untucked. As she fastened her utility belt, she heard a soft clanking coming down the hallway. It was like the tiny footsteps of a small robot, and she was right. She automatically almost spoke to the small SIR unit as he lingered in her open, oblong doorway. Quickly shrugging off the ridiculous urge to be polite, Petra continued to do small tests on her utility belt and checking no cryogel found its way between her PAK and her back. If he wanted her files he could get it from the Control Brains' public access information depository.

To her surprise (and amusement), the unit split into a wide grin and she noticed for the first time his blue accents. He giggled again and ran up to her, initial timidity gone, and pulled on her shirt. "Do you have any tacos?"

Petra cringed slightly at the high pitched, unnaturally loud voice that spewed from the android. Clearly, this machine was malfunctioning and needed to be repaired. She mentally accessed the protocol for this situation and found that she needed to deal with it on her own. SIR units were one of the most ingenious Irken creations of all time. Every soldier was trained to be able to take it apart and put it back together in minutes, among other things. So, Petra scooped the tiny screeching bot in her arms and set him on a work table. There were lots of things to do, but they could wait. SIR units are an Irken's top soldier, after all.

After taking out her essential tools from her storage pontoon, Petra popped open the top of the SIR and poked around. It was rather strange- there was only really a guidance chip, behavioral monitor, various ports, and some trash inside. The guidance chip had been switched out for a modified version, and oddly, the behavioral monitor was set to only average. These were nearly factory settings, so it didn't at all explain the robot's actions. "SIR. Tell me what your name stands for." It was a standard question used to assess the functionality of damaged units.

"That's not my name, silly!"

"... What?" This had never happened before. Sometimes it would forget or misreport its acronym, but completely deleting any knowledge of its name and even replacing it was unheard of! "What is your name?"

The unit immediately jumped into duty mode and turned the normal red. "GIR, ma'am!"

Petra moved to continue, but got caught on the unit's words. "GIR? What does the G stand for?"

Gir faded back to the cool teal and dropped into a relaxed posture. "I don't know," he replied, a blithe smile crossing his face. Petra frowned. This issue ran deeper than she had thought- how long had the master allowed this to happen? Wait a minute, did she just call Invader Zim "the master"? _I seriously need to read about this whole imprint thing._

Whatever was going on now, she didn't have time to deal with it. This was intended to be a quick fix, but this would clearly take some real work and there was only enough space in the schedule to accommodate some cleaning. That being sorted, she began pulling trash out of GIR's head and placing it to the side.

Suddenly, she noticed the unit deactivate and froze. In her hand, she held a candy wrapper. Slowly she dropped it back in and the little robot came back on. Mystified, Petra decided to place all of the trash back in his head and deal with this enigma at a later date. This was more than a complicated problem, GIR was practically a cryptid. Quickly writing out a report, Petra filed it away and sent the robot off. She _would_ have detained it as to not bother the master (there it is again), but he might become upset if he had called out for his… GIR, and it didn't come running.

Well, at least now the preparations could begin. _Let's see…_ she thought, contemplatively rubbing her bottom lip with her thumb. After initial landing, you were supposed to confer and receive instructions from your invader. Done. Send out a message to the tallest that your landing was successful. Well… they definitely got the message. After that you are to cleanse the entirety of the base as a show of humility to your invader and make preparations for your disguise and mission tomorrow. Oh. Petra _had_ plans for the mission before, but seeing as she was no longer going to be on Tetrox, she had to formulate completely new ones. She let out a sigh and sat down on her work table. "Computer," she called out.

"Download the base layout and mission information." The computer let out a beep of approval and extended and mechanical arm that latched onto her PAK. She lazily allowed the information to pass through her brain without thinking too much about it until a recording shot through her head. She stopped it and played it in her mind once more, allowing the download to happen in the background. It appeared to be a recording of her master taken without his knowledge, and a funny one at that. He had knocked a chemical into his eye and it was beginning to boil inside his skull, causing him to run into things screaming. "Shouldn't this be… classified, or something?"

"Do you want to know?"

Petra thought about it carefully for a moment.

"Never mind."


	2. Glasses

Finally, after several hours of studying and intense contemplation, Petra had a plan and a disguise. She had already hacked (if you could even call it that) into the "Skool" enrollment files and entered herself as enrolled. Petra Arkanian. She had just pulled a random last name out of some novel written by an earthling which she happened to read. It was nothing compared to the old-fashioned Irken wartime strategy tomes, but it was amusing in a childlike way. The perception of aliens by humans was so prehistoric though- it was a wonder that Earth hadn't been demolished millenia ago by alien passerby.

Petra rose to her feet and stretched out. She was long overdue for something to eat, and she was excited to clean up and try out her new holo disguise. Making plans was fun and all, but doing the manual labor was relaxing in its own right. She flipped on the mental switch and… "Oh, come on."

Petra studied her disguise in the mirror. She had allowed the computer to combine everything that humans found attractive in a female (most lieutenants were female because their smaller size and label as weak made stealth operations easier), but this disguise looked nothing like an elementary schooler. At least, what she had studied did not lead her to believe 12-year-olds had this large of mammary glands. Computers were useful, but a brain was even better. After some fine-tuning, the disguise was much more convincing. The biggest hang-up was that she couldn't get rid of her PAK for a whole school day. She could last maybe an hour or two at best, but leaving it off for too long would probably start to slowly kill her. Luckily, it appeared that children wore "back-packs" which made the PAK quite easy to disguise.

Just then, she heard a crash in the doorway. "HUMAN! COMPUTER, EMERGENCY ALERT!" Petra had left the door open out of habit (a habit which it appeared she must break), and Zim was now screeching and howling in her gaping door frame. She immediately called off the holo disguise and jumped to attention, causing the ruckus to come to an abrupt halt. "Oh. Um, ahem," Zim very smoothly covered his mistake by announcing to the computer to call off the emergency alert, only to be told that one had never been initiated because the computer knew who she was. _This might be a long mission,_ Petra thought to herself.

"Say Petra," Zim began, quickly changing the subject. "Why do you look like that?"

"... What do you mean, my invader?"

"I thought lieutenants were supposed to be perfect, right? Nothing less for the almighty ZIM, of course, but most normal Irkens have one skin tone. They don't have those, uh… those… what are those things?" Zim stepped forward and pointed to the center of her face.

"I assume you mean freckles, sir."

"Yes yes, those. And they certainly don't have piercings- that's reserved for _defects_."

Both Irkens involuntarily shuddered at the use of the d-word. Defective was the worst thing an Irken could possibly be, even worse than short. It was quite ironic, seeing as Zim was labelled defective by all of Irken society.

"The intent of my appearance is to fool any enemies into thinking that I am a… defective Irken and put their guards down so that I may take them down with more ease," Petra lied. In reality, most lieutenants made the all the body modifications they wanted because none of the teachers were strong enough to stop them, and the Tallest didn't care. As long as they wore the uniform and did their job, it was enough. Besides, it set them apart. However, that usually applied to intentional scars or piercings, and the only body mod that Petra had was a hoop on her left antennae and the brand on her forehead. The brand was from the school and she just liked the piercing. Getting it hurt like a mother irker, though.

The freckles were just a byproduct of her creation. She was a mixture of the DNA of the top soldiers through the ages, and most of the experiments of her kind (I suppose you could call them siblings if you wanted to be sentimental) died a few days after conception, and she was one of the few who made it past a zygote. Unfortunately, Petra was the only of two experiments to survive infancy. The freckles that dotted her face, shoulders and hands were just little bits and pieces of the flesh of those she came from, which ended up blending down into a mostly pale green color on the rest of her body. The muted purple of her eyes was a simple aesthetic choice made by the Control Brains, probably just random.

"Ah, I see. Of course the Tallest wouldn't send me a non-functioning lieutenant. I was just being cautious because of-" A high pitched giggle alongside a crash was heard from way down the hall, and Zim heaved a sigh. "GIR." Petra inwardly grimaced. She was going to be the one to clean up whatever it is that monstrous little creature had broken. "Computer, did GIR break anything important?"

"He appears to be smashing a piggy bank, crying, taping it up, and then breaking it again."

"...Nothing important, then. I'll be going to my private chamber for a gel soak then, lieutenant. Guard the base while I am at rest and prepare for your introduction to Skool tomorrow." He said the word Skool with a bitter distaste in his mouth, scowling. Petra gave a salute and he did a high legged march off into his rooms. Once he was out of earshot, he gave a little giggle. He felt so official and important and _tall!_ More than he already was, of course.

Petra slumped down against her work bench and closed her eyes. The cleaning would have to wait for just a little while. She was desperately low on sugar- any longer and she might collapse. She had this horrible habit of getting so focused on one thing she neglected her other needs, but seeing as the mission report made the invasion seem slow going to say the least, there was hope that she would have more time on her hands than she had back at the academy.

After taking a couple deep breaths, Petra quietly escaped upstairs to reach the pantry, which housed a number of snacks and sugary treats. While getting a bowl of Frosted Sugar Lumps, she noticed that GIR was sitting on the couch watching a TV program. Upon closer inspection, the program appeared to be a collection of up-close shots of an ape looking into the camera. It was disturbing, and the little robot was enraptured by the primate's gaze.

She resisted the bizarre urge to stand next to the couch and watch, instead opting to take a seat at the kitchen table and take a look at the Earth internet. Unsurprisingly, the strange ape show was a phenomenon. There were forums full of Scary Monkey Show gifs, but there was another interesting addition. All throughout the galaxy, there were social networks, some more species exclusive than others, but Petra had never seen the likes of these Earth networks. Facetome, Speedygram, Snapbabble, Rollr… the photos that humans took of themselves and the importance they placed on "upvotes" and "likes" was incredible. Even their world leaders threw petty insults like smeets over Tweeter!

However, she made accounts on all of the most prolific sites, posting a couple of photos on the same caliber as some of the more popular people that went to Skool. She could tell their popularity by the amount of likes and comments on each post, and all the captions had either what appeared to be song lyrics or phrases rife with horrible spelling and grammar. It was astounding the things that some of the kids said- after all, in Irken years these kids would still be smeets. To be fair, though, the moment that you are removed from the hatchery after birth you become a student and a soldier.

After her meal, she felt leagues better and only took a bag of Cheezy-Poffs to eat in her chamber, when there was a loud frantic knock at the door. Petra tucked and rolled behind the arm of the couch, holding the precious Poffs near her squeedlyspooch. A pair of robotic figures emerged from the wall and one reached out to open the door, but both of them started sparking and seizing before the door even opens. Petra saw a screen extension shoot out of GIR's head and it turned to face her. "The robo-parents are still on the fritz, I see. I, the mighty ZIM _would_ go up and get the door, but I am very busy with… some very important work right now."

Petra heard the canned laughter of an Irken game show in the background. "Should I go get it, sir?"

"Hmm. It may be too difficult a task for you, seeing as you are quite new on Earth. Behind that door is my mortal enemy- the filthy, disgusting, _wormy, icky,_ _ **grimy-**_ " The knocking was becoming a banging and a young voice began to shout through the door, but it was muffled.

"Sir, _would you like me to answer the door?_ "

"-he's a nasty worm baby that has thwarted me many times, so be on your guard." There was a shouting noise coming from the other end of the call, and Zim was instantly distracted. "Oh, Z-Zim has to go, don't fail me Petra." The screen flashed off with a quiet _bzzt_ , and GIR let out a delighted cackle at something in his own head and scuttered off somewhere.

Petra sighed and donned her disguise. She shoved the robo-parents back into the wall and brushed off her pants before opening the door. The human had its fist coming down, intending to bang on the door when it swung open. His blow landed on Petra's shoulder, shocking him. His cries went silent.

"Do you need something?"

This was certainly not what he expected- had Zim moved? Who was this person?

"I uh- I'm Dib Membrane, where is Zim?" The Dib boy was average in appearance, with pale skin, jet black hair, and bronzy eyes. It was his hairstyle that was interesting- all of it was blown back, like he had faced directly into a wind tunnel. However, he had the world's worst cowlick, with one long lock of hair that shot straight off his head and made a sharp curve backwards that almost looked like scythe. Maybe he was born with it, maybe it was simple tragedy.

"He is busy. What business do you have here?" Her cold politeness was stifling, not to mention Dib's dearth of social skills. He peered around her shoulder into the darkness of the house, but she shifted to block his view. Dib nervously pushed his round glasses up on his nose, when all of a sudden, her expression turned from severe to fascinated.

"I was going to see if Zim was up to any nefarious business- you do know he's an alien right? And come to think of it, if you're in his house are you an alien? Tak, is that you again-" Dib suddenly cut off. "Are you, uh, are you okay there?" The girl was very close to his face, but she wasn't looking at him. She promptly plucked the glasses off his face and studied them, turning them over and then putting them on.

"H-hey, I need those to see! Who are you?" Dib couldn't tell what she was doing, since his vision was garbage without his glasses. What Petra was doing was trying on this strange new apparatus. When she put them on, however, the neighborhood turned blurry and unrecognizable! She pulled them off in a rush out of surprise and confusion.

"What is the intention of this thing?" Petra demanded. "What does it do?"

"They're my glasses you nutcase, I can't see without them. Give them _back!_ " Reluctantly she gave them back, and when Dib recovered his vision there was no malice on her face. There was only an innocent sort of confusion.

"You use the glasses to help you see?"

"Yeah, duh. Have you never seen glasses before?"

"When I put them on the same as you I could not see. Everything was blurry."

"Well you obviously don't wear glasses. Your eyes are normal, I was born with bad eyesight. Do they not have glasses where you're from?"

"The glasses were an… accomodation to your weakness? Is that legal here?"

" _Geez,_ of course it's legal, what else would they do with anyone who's different?"

"Kill them, of course." Dib raised both eyebrows in an shocked manner. Her face was completely devoid of lies, and murder earnestly seemed like the most reasonable response to bad eyesight. He studied her for a moment.

She was, as far as he could tell, the same height as he was. This strange girl was actually rather pretty, with smooth fair skin and an abundance of freckles scattered over her face and lightly across her knuckles. Her hair was soft looking, ended just above her shoulders, and was a pleasant strawberry-blonde color. Her eyes were an unconventional light mauve, but it wasn't completely out of place. She looked like she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, with her bangs pulled back to expose her forehead and a very elegant outfit consisting of black track pants and a big t-shirt. There was something strange, though.

"Why are you wearing your backpack inside your house?" Dib asked, suspicion mounting.

"I- I just got home. From the… store?" She had no idea that children didn't wear backpacks all the time. She would have to study the clothing rituals humans followed- this culture was so familiar, yet so strange.

"That's it. Who are you? Where are you from? Are you Zim's alien queen? Wait, how old are you guys?" Dib's point began to wander a bit.

"My name is Petra Arkanian. I'm transferring to the Skool on Monday." Petra had a story planned out in advance, but it was half constructed and she realized she'd have to change seeing as there was some things about human culture that she had missed.

"Transferred from where?"

"I'm from," Petra racked her mind for a country on this planet. "Holland. I'm from North Holland. Zim is my… cousin."

She looked Dutch enough, seeing as Dib had never met someone from the Netherlands. He still held his suspicions, though. This "Petra" person had never seen glasses, thought it was appropriate to kill those with even the slightest of handicaps, and moved from Holland to live with Zim. She _had_ to know that Zim was an alien, right? Petra couldn't be Tak, since Tak hated Zim and wouldn't dream of living with him. Maybe she was a brainwashed human, or a robot of Zim's treacherous design.

While Dib dreamt up many possibilities that floated further and further from the truth, Petra watched him with suspicion. Many of the humans on the internet didn't seem very intelligent, but this human in particular seemed to be somewhat perceptive. Perhaps it was due to his large head. "Well, Zim is not up to any 'nefarious business', and aliens are not real, so I will see you in class. Goodbye."

With that, Petra closed the door in Dib's face. He didn't seem to notice until a moment or two after, when he snapped himself out of thought. He tried pounding on the door again for several minutes, but this time there was no response. Disgruntled and confused, he walked all the way home and got there just in time to catch Mysterious Mysteries. Gaz, in a show of uncharacteristic mercy, sat on the couch while he watched it in silence. Now this was strange for her normally chatterbox big brother, and while it was a wonderful change of pace it was concerning.

Without taking her eyes off of _Vampire Piggy Hunter 3: Return of the Hell-Hog_ , she dryly said, "Did you find any spooky aliens today?" He mumbled some vague nonsense as he stared blankly at the scrolling credits. Now this was definitely strange for him. He didn't even take the opportunity to blather on about Zim or whatever. Then the strangest thing came over Gaz and whatever spark of familial concern was left in her tiny, shrivelled heart made her actually _pause_ her game and turn to look at Dib.

He didn't even seem to notice her, and instead looked at the credits onscreen as though they were a puzzle he was trying to solve. Could something have happened today? The only thing worse than dealing with her normal brother is dealing with her brother when he's upset. It wasn't enjoyable at all unless she had a hand in it. "I'm going to bed." he announced very suddenly.

"Dib, it's five in the afternoon. Why are you weirder than normal today?" she tried very hard to keep anything that wasn't indifferent or cynical out of her voice, to keep her dignity of course.

However, her words didn't stop Dib as he distractedly made his way to his room. She heard the tell-tale click of the lock on the door and sighed. Maybe this had something to do with puberty. Dad had attempted to give her the talk before, but (presumably out of embarrassment) he littered his speech with so many scientific terms that it was incomprehensible. All she really got was that if Dib started spending too much time in his room with the door locked that she was NOT to go in there. Whatever that meant.

In Dib's room though, there was no activities of that sort happening. Instead he was creating a profile on Petra, so that he could add to it in the future. Despite her obvious failures, she seemed much more well-adjusted than Zim. And while Zim was an idiot who couldn't set his hubris aside long enough to form an actual good plan for world conquest, he had shown that his species was very intelligent and he was smart as well. To a point, that is. So if he had an actual competent alien with him, what would that mean for Earth?

* * *

After Dib had ceased his endless banging on the door, Petra returned to the lair. She could finally begin her top to bottom cleaning of the base, which gave her ample time to think. While scrubbing she browsed more information on fashion and human traditions. Many books and movies that took place in elementary schools were quite frightening at first, but after doing some looking at anatomy it could be determined that not all human children had destructive superpowers.

While it was plain to see that human society was primitive, it was cute. The cultural patterns and social interactions were so diverse simply across one planet, instead of a more Irken-style monoculture. Every difference between humans (while mocked) was assisted either by the government or through services, which was a sentiment that Irk never held. If an Irken soldier would have had bad eyesight, it would have been detected during development and corrected. If that wasn't possible the smeet would have just been killed. However, the amount of clones created with significant genetic mutations was so low due to the advanced technology, that no Irken would ever need "glasses" like Dib.

 _Tomorrow is going to be a long day,_ Petra thought. The base was sparkling and if you stood outside Zim's private chambers you could just barely hear the sound of a TV playing inside, and GIR was (somehow?) taking a nap on the couch upstairs. Petra had one more snack before she went into a sleep cycle in the early hours of the next morning, setting an alarm in her PAK to wake her up well before she needed to begin her walk to school. With nothing else to do it seemed most prudent to save up her energy and allow her PAK to take full control and sort through the day's findings. In invader training elite soldiers are taught to scatter their first few weeks with frequent sleep cycles so that their thoughts may be clear and well-organized, although _some_ invaders disregard that advice entirely.

Just before entering her sleep cycle, that last little thought pulled her into the academy again. The lieutenant academy was considered harder than invader training by some, only because students in invader training are already elite soldiers by the time they begin. Lieutenants are born and then immediately placed in training. Petra remembered the day that she emerged from the DNA vat. It was a terrifying feeling- no personality was pre-set onto the PAK when it was placed on her seconds after birth, so she knew only her history, her mission, and her name. P-34. It was up to her to decide who P-34 was.

Petra had many friends at the academy, but she didn't know what they were doing now. Many of the smeets had died the first day. It was cruel, throwing literal smeets into simulated battle with drones. But it did what it was supposed to. It taught you who was in control, who was the enemy, and who your allies were. And that one mistake could make any moment your last. In that academy you learned everything that wasn't on your PAK from the start- cooking, cleaning, battle strategy, espionage, psychology, natural evolution, technology. Every Irken on the planet was a soldier from day one, but every lieutenant was a specialty from birth. Many personalities could be reused, and the traits of loyalty and admiration for the future invader was installed on every PAK, but many times the PAKs had to be left blank and the Irken had to be formed. Raised, sort of like human children on earth.

Petra wondered if earth schools killed as many children as the academy killed Irkens.


	3. The First Day

When Petra awoke and went upstairs, it was pouring. She'd come to earth smack in the middle of the rainy transition found between fall and winter. Sooner than later that rain would turn to heaps of snow, but for now it just came as sheets of water dripping from the sky. It was lovely to look at, in her opinion. Grey clouds and muted tones were a lot closer to the subdued, dark purples and pinks of Irk. Besides, it made a very nice sound. Historically, there had been rain on Irk, but it was always intensely acidic and killed any living things not evolved the handle it. Flash forward to the evolution of the Irken species and the creation of the Control Brains and you get to the part when the Control Brains manipulates the weather. It's always cloudy.

Earth water did present a unique challenge, though. Luckily, when Zim left Irk scientists were on the cusp of creating tangible holograms for even better disguises. Despite that great discovery, it was only tangible to living creatures, and the water would still hit her underneath the disguise. She hadn't been on Earth long enough to go to a store and obtain clothing, so for a few days Petra had to improvise. Then, it hit her.

 _My compression suit,_ she realized. It was a full body suit that was practically skin tight, normally supposed to be under weighted body plates for high intensity endurance training. It was suffocating during practice and most hated it, but unlike much of the other uniforms it acted as a one-way membrane. It allowed sweat and heat to leave the body, but it wouldn't let a drop of any foreign substances through it. Today it would serve a different purpose under her holographic outfit, but she wasn't excited about being stuck in the hot suit for a whole day. Then again, it was better than being sticky with paste residue.

She was quite proud of the disguise and the outfit, truth be told. It looked exactly like what many of the humans wore online, and it was a welcome change from the monotone colors of Irken uniforms. That was one of the things she liked about this little planet, all the colors. It might even be reasonable to say that there wasn't one patch of dirt for plants to grow on Irk's surface anymore. It was all factories and buildings, and the planet was almost hollow from the underground facilities anyways.

Petra left a little before her invader did, just to avoid connecting them. Eventually she would have to own up to their shared domicile, but at least for now she didn't want to be outcast from the Skool population because of him. She had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't too popular among the humans, for several reasons.

 _Isn't that the big headed boy? Dib or something?_ Petra thought, shifting her umbrella to her other hand. He was walking with a black umbrella, with a smaller human walking a few feet behind him. They looked a little bit like him, in the face shape and the eyes. Their eyes were full of malice and cold metal, though, unlike his more curious ones. Humans were so weird though, and Petra literally could not tell the gender of the little one. She decided to follow them, seeing as they probably knew a much faster way to the Skool.

Dib was absorbed deep in his own thoughts when he heard the splashing of someone running through a puddle. He turned around and saw his sister (who refused to walk next to Dib because she might catch his stupid), and another familiar figure much farther down the sidewalk. _Petra!_

He felt the urge to demand her true identity, but hesitated. There were so many other possibilities, and his therapist had recently pointed out that he tended to jump to conclusions rather often. Usually conclusions about aliens. Besides, she didn't even look like she remembered him, and was instead very blankly looking off into the distance. Maybe he should wait this out, be all stealthy and stuff. _Ooh, I'm like a narc. Wait, do they only do drug busts?_

It was barely a minute before Dib was once again wrapped up in his mind, now about alien weed and inter-galactic narcs. Not a word was exchanged until they made it to the front steps of the skool. Dib opened the door and held it for his sister, and then looked to the girl currently ascending the steps. As she passed through the doorway, she flashed him a friendly smile and thanked him. He noticed something new about her- her teeth. They were razor sharp. At least he could say the chance of her being human was going down little by little.

He walked a good ten feet behind her as she made her way to what was presumably her classroom, and to his surprise she was enrolled in Mrs. Bitters' class. He hoped that Zim would be sent to the underground classroom. Speak of the devil, he could hear that alien screaming about something at Mr. Elliot a few classrooms down, and apparently so did Petra, which prompted her to enter the classroom. Dib followed suit, as there was something much more interesting to see today than Zim.

Petra was enraptured in her thoughts as she stood at the front of the class. Most polite gestures were saved for your tallers, and you didn't have to care much about what happened to the smallers. She and that Dib boy were the same height, yet he held the door for the smaller girl and for her. It made sense, because apparently humans grew to these great looming heights, thus devaluing tallness. Even though Petra was habitually polite to everyone (even to her smallers), it was still very much a culture shock.

Zim burst into the room, and stood in the doorway yelling down the hall. Most students neglected to react, as Zim keeping his mouth shut was an incredibly uncommon occurrence. He spied Petra standing idly by the teacher's desk and pointed a finger at her. "Who is this worm-baby that I have definitely never met before, ever?" he exclaimed. Petra couldn't help but let confusion and irritation cross her face, which was probably the most human thing she could do in this situation.

"Zim, have a seat. We'll introduce our new student once the bell rings," Ms. Bitters replied, her voice metallic and grating. Zim did his trademark high-knee march to his desk, and gave a suspicious eye to Dib across the row. As the last few remaining students trickled into the classroom, chatting and going into their respective seats, you could see them spotting the newest addition to their class standing at the front of the room and then having a moment of panic over who would be "moved" from their class. It had become tradition at that point that whoever had last irritated Ms. Bitters would be sent off to make space, and seeing as children just existing rubbed her the wrong way, everybody felt like a target. Sometimes students would be sent off simply to get rid of them, but there were only two children where that was necessary- although those children still remained.

Dib wasn't scared, because he had become immune to removal seeing as the underground classrooms got sick of sending him back up for his obnoxious behavior (Zim being in the same boat). In contrast, some of the skoolkids were saying prayers, and others were saying goodbye and writing wills of questionable legality. Students sent downstairs were commonly never heard from again, and were only spotted outside during new moons. Any attempts to communicate with them would cause them to skitter off like scared mice; any child sent down was as good as dead to anyone that knew them.

The young hearts in Ms. Bitters' classroom skipped a beat when the bell rang, and the room was dead silent. One child named Mary was clinging to a crucifix under her desk, but was praying to any being that would listen. Without saying a word (the teacher didn't have to anymore), Ms. Bitters pointed an old, crooked finger at a redheaded young boy by the name of Poonchy. He sighed and hung his head, and the old hag slammed her fist onto a button. The floor open, shooting the desk deep into the underbelly of the school, before replacing itself a few short moments later.

"That will be your seat. Class, this is the newest good-for-nothing addition to our skool. Introduce yourself quickly." Ms. Bitters said curtly. Petra was not at all surprised at the action beforehand. This was common Irken behavior- in many classes if there was no room for new students the weakest would be killed off, and the spots given to incoming Irkens. Poonchy's sacrifice would be acknowledged, but it was kind of his fault for being the worst.

"My name is Petra Arkanian. I have just moved from North Holland, so please treat me with patience as I don't know much about this country's customs and traditions. I hope to get along with you all," she said, and gave a small smile before taking a seat in the newly empty desk. Poonchy's elimination was all but forgotten as students craned their necks to see the new foreign student. Too bad for her that she had to sit in the seat right next to that weird kid Zim, but at least she wasn't sitting next to Dib or something. She looked kind of important, actually, all her clothes were big brands and she was pretty. What if she was _famous?_

Ms. Bitters began her lesson on the eventual heat death of the universe, and most students settled into a state of quiet inattention as they awaited the lunch bell. Zim was writing something down in a journal about a gun that launched hamsters at breakneck speeds, and Petra watched the specter of death that was their teacher draw wildly inaccurate diagrams of the solar system on the chalkboard.

"Gretchen," Ms. Bitters crowed. "It is time for the random assessment. Come up here and answer the question with the information given."

The young girl hopped out of his seat and gingerly took the chalk out of the teacher's claws. Once a day, Ms. Bitters would write down a question with information on the board and ask some poor child to come answer it. Usually, the question was way too difficult for any college graduate to answer, let alone a child, and it was mostly an excuse to berate and belittle her students.

The question today asked Gretchen to find the approximate date that all the planets in the solar system would fall into alignment given the current location in relation to the Sun, and the speeds at which each planet travels. This is not an impossible calculation, of course, but it was not one you should ask a literal child. As expected, Gretchen struggled for several minutes at the front of the class. Students were pretty much taught the bare basics and had no reasoning skills- in fact, the skool system was so warped that they had stopped having teachers teach specific grades in primary skool. Ms. Bitters' class had been taught by her since second grade when they made the change, and no one really cared to see if the teachers were qualified anymore.

"Insolent girl," the teacher spewed. "Have I taught you nothing? Your head must be full of cobwebs and dust! Would any other dull-headed child like to volunteer to answer the question?"

 _I know this!_ Dib thought excitedly, shooting his hand up. _I looked this up last night for my research!_ This was his chance to appear as sane to his classmates and maybe get Ms. Bitters to stop calling him an idiot all the time-

"Petra, you have your hand up. Come up." Dib watched disappointingly as the bored-looking new kid lowered her hand and casually strolled up to the board. "Show your work."

The class watched as Petra took the chalk, re-read the question, and erased everything except for the given information. The chalk tapped gently on the board and occasionally made a quiet squeak as the girl drew numbers and arrows all across the board's surface. Roughly six minutes passed before Petra circled a number on the board with an air of finality and began to explain her answer.

"...The planets could never be fully aligned due to their orbits not being perfectly level, but we can conclude that the planets will "align" around 2492, give or take a few years and degrees. Of course, there will be smaller such events in the nearer future with less planets involved." Petra finished. The classroom's silence was deafening. The teacher checked her book, checked it again, and then set it on her desk. She scribbled out a note on a green slip, and slammed it into Petra's open palm. Her face was infuriated and her voice unnaturally quiet.

"Dib. Take our new student to the counselor's office. _NOW,_ " she added, her tone venomous. Dib quickly skittered out of his seat and dragged Petra by the hand, before stopping at the door.

"D-do I need the hall pass?" he asked, gesturing to the teacher's desk which held the collar that served as a pass.

" _NOW!_ " she hissed. As the two students left, they could hear the wicked crone muttering something about the European skool system and "commies". Whatever that meant.

Petra felt guilt swell up in her squeedlyspooch. She had only done what she had been taught to do, which was to demonstrate excellence at all times to bring glory to the empire and her invader. Was she blowing her cover? In most other cultures intelligent students were well-received and gained popularity quickly, so what was different about Earth?

Dib walked almost on auto-pilot to the counselor's office, having already worn a trail to the familiar room over the years. When he pushed the door open he was greeted by the familiar face of the on-site child psychologist. She had soft, upturned eyes and smooth dark skin, and was exceptionally pretty. Most students liked to visit her, but she saw Dib the most out of all of them.

"Already? It's barely nine," she said, her voice thick with a pleasant Nigerian accent.

"It's not my fault this time," Dib replied handing over the green slip. She read it carefully, and her eyebrows raised with surprise. She peered over the paper to look at the new student standing nervously by the doorframe.

"It really isn't your fault," she murmured with quiet shock. "Well Petra, my name is Miriam Nzeogwu, but you can call me Mrs. N. Have a seat- Dib, you too." Mrs. N added, watching him warily as he eyed the door.

Petra took the seat right in front of the counselor's desk, and Dib pulled the chair that was sitting in the corner next to it. While the room was still as unnaturally cold and oddly shaped as when Mr. Dwiggy was in it (before the abduction), Mrs. N had painted the walls and refurbished the room to look somewhat habitable. Out of all the school advisors that Dib had seen over the years, Mrs. N was his favorite.

"So Miss Petra, what happened in class today? This behavioral slip said that you blatantly disrespected Ms. Bitters' authority." Mrs. N laid the slip flat and pointed to the scribbled words with a pen.

"Ms. Bitters asked a question, and when another student got it wrong, she asked for volunteers, and then I did and I got the question right. Then she made us leave and I think she called me a commie," Petra said that last part a little bit quieter, still not sure what a commie was. Mrs. N clucked her tongue and sighed.

"There are just some people you cannot work with," she mumbled, and filled out a new slip. "Here. You two can stay in here until lunchtime, because I am afraid that if I send you back now that teacher will fill my desk drawers with cockroaches again-"

"Again?"

"-I digress. But I can't watch you, I have a curriculum development meeting I need to go to. Be good children and go eat when the lunch bell rings. After that you may go back to class and give Ms. Bitters this slip. Lock my office door and shut off the lights before you leave, okay?" With that Mrs. N grabbed her purse off the ground and left.

The room was quiet for several minutes.

"What time is the lunch break?"

"12:30."

It was 9:02.

Great.

(A/N: Nobody probably noticed this, but I'm uploading this around 7:00ish rather than 3:00ish. Sorry about that, but at the time

I'd normally upload I was in public. Before you say it, I already know. Being outside is uncharacteristic. It wasn't

my choice. In any case, thank you for reading and please leave me feedback so I can improve.)


	4. Jessica and Mrs Mayer

An hour passed, filled to the brim with action-packed sparse conversation and short naps. Finally, Dib asked one of the many questions that had been on his mind since he'd met Petra the day prior.

"You're an alien, right?"

Petra played off the question with the ease of a trained actor. Well, she _was_ a trained actor in a sense. Even so, her compression suit was becoming stifling and she scratched at the collar. "Yeah, I'm an immigrant. I just said I was from Holland."

"No, like an alien from space. Like Zim- you were at his house yesterday when I came."

"By that logic, since you were _going_ to his house, aren't you an alien?"

"That's not how that works!" he cried indignantly. The girl's cool, logical indifference was a lot more aggravating that Zim's childish yelling. "Look, I already know Zim's an alien. I've seen him out of his disguise. He's got big red eyes and antennae and can shoot robot spider legs out of his backpack-thingy. Just tell me now; I mean, nobody believes me anyway."

Petra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He could be lying, but if he wasn't that would mean that Zim had _already_ blown his cover on this planet. "Do I look anything like an alien? I don't know where you're getting all that weird stuff, but he just looks like that because of his skin condition or whatever- stop being so creepy."

 _Creepy?_ Dib was used to the word, but this time his blood boiled. How dare she call him creepy, she was an evil, cruel, immoral ALIEN! Probably. "I'm not creepy! You're obviously an alien- you didn't know what glasses were, you knew how to do that math earlier! That language on your screen right now isn't human at ALL!"

Petra hid the screen on the tablet she'd produced from her "backpack" just a few minutes before. "Of course it's human language! It's… Dutch!"

"Well that doesn't _look_ like Dutch."

"Can you read Dutch?"

"Well I mean- I can't read Dutch but- Look," he stammered. "I know what you are. I have a ship that another Irken named Tak left behind. I can use your technology and I'm getting closer to finding out how to catch your kind every day." That last part was a lie. He had completed his repairs on Tak's ship, but it had decided to shut itself down rather than answer questions. So while he tried to figure out how to manually turn on the ship from the outside, his research had reached a plateau.

Petra didn't personally know Tak, but she had heard of her. It was one of the many horror stories left over from the planetary blackouts caused by Zim. Come to think of it, Zim had wreaked so much havoc on Irk that it was a wonder he wasn't killed a long time ago. "'My kind' is human. I don't know why you're targeting me, but you need to quit it. It's weird and annoying." She crossed her arms and turned away, refusing to look at him. She had realized something and it was making her upset. Now she had to go home and learn Dutch.

"I'll get the truth out of you soon enough, Petra, if that's your real name." Dib declared, mirroring her movements.

For the next two hours hardly a word was exchanged, and most of the words that did emerge were negative. Finally, the bell rang and before he even picked up the keys from Mrs. N's desk, Petra was out the door. There was one similarity between her and Zim- they were both gratingly stubborn. Dib groaned and locked up as usual, remembering to shut off the lights and toss the keys underneath the door before he left. The counselor didn't need to remind him anymore.

Petra shook off the uncomfortable encounter with the large-headed boy and instead followed the masses to the lunchroom. Before she could even worry about finding seating, though, she was approached by a group of four girls. They all had big, cheesy smiles on and ushered the alien to their table.

Jessica was the first one to actually talk to her. She had bluntly cut blonde hair, about three piercings per ear, and generally seemed to be the one in control. "So Petra, you're from Holland right? What city?"

 _Thank Tallest I did so much research on the Netherlands last night._

"I lived in Amsterdam in North Holland." she replied. With that Jessica's eyes lit up- it was practically the only city that any American would recognize out of all the places in the Netherlands.

"Oh wow, my mom says that Amsterdam is a very liberal place," piped in one girl named Aki. "I don't really get what that means, but my mom seems to like it. My dad doesn't, though."

"So what's Amsterdam like?" Jessica asked.

"I suppose you could call it liberal. It is very small so people ride bikes or ride the tram everywhere, most children are raised very independently, and people do a lot of… art." Truth be told, most of what Petra had read had said that there were drugs, brothels, and sexual education galore in Amsterdam. All of it legal! There was a park where people were _allowed_ to partake in sexual activities; just the thought made Petra's skin crawl.

"Independently? So like, they let kids raise themselves?" inquired a girl with dark hair by the name of Rahela.

"Yes. If I was going to spend the night at a friend's house I would just phone Mam and tell her. I rode my bike to school every morning. I don't understand a lot of this how do you call it, 'helicopter parenting' that is in America." Petra prayed that she sounded like she actually lived on Earth, let alone North Holland.

"Wow, that's cool!" Jessica chirped, and the girls around her excitedly nodded in agreement. "Not as cool as me, obviously, but still pretty cool."

"Hey, why does your voice sound funny? Like Mrs. N's, but different?" another blonde girl asked. Her name was Sandra, and as soon as she spoke there were three pairs of glaring eyes on her. Bottom of the food chain, tragically.

"English was not my first language, I have an accent. I spoke Dutch first," Petra explained. She was glad that she had downloaded a Dutch accent the night before, although she had overlooked the fact that she would now actually have to learn Dutch. And also remember to turn the accent off at home. They all opened their lunch bags or ate from lunch trays (human food was _so_ disgusting), and the lieutenant instead opted for a bag of her favorite treat. They didn't really have a pronounceable name in any language other than Old Irken, but they were these flaky disks of dough that were rolled in sugar and spices, and then glazed. The insides were filled with a sweet frosting.

"Is that all you're going to eat?" asked Aki, curiously. "And what _are_ those?"

"They are, uh, a Dutch food. And I don't usually eat much for lunch, so this is better for me." The other reason that Petra liked the treats so much is that since they were Irken, they were packed with enough sugar and carbs to keep her going for the entire day, even at her high rate of metabolism. She wasn't huge, but she needed to eat like the Tallest to fuel any sort of activity, and the Tallest could drain the Massive of snacks in ten minutes given the chance.

About ten minutes after lunch had started, Dib walked into the lunchroom and sat down next to his sister, as per usual. It could have been considered sad, but it was more of a defense mechanism than anything. Most kids were too scared to approach the table for fear of Gaz tearing their heads off, so Dib was safer next to his main tormentor than anywhere else.

Like the night before and the walk to school, Dib wasn't very talkative and instead just did a lot of writing into a little blue notebook. Gaz was becoming increasingly concerned and irritated with her brother, but she noticed that when he wasn't writing or mumbling, he was studying a girl she didn't recognize. The girl was sitting with the popular kids, and looked very friendly, but Dib was looking at her like she'd start pouring acid out of her ears any second.

For Petra lunch passed uneventfully, and Jessica basically forced her new foreign friend to exchange contacts. Many kids rushed towards the exit when the bell rang, but a troupe of men with riot shields ran out of the kitchens to push them back. Apparently after lunch was supposed to come "recess", but the heavy rains made it unsafe to play outdoors. In class, Ms. Bitters didn't say anything when Petra gave her the note, but when the alien and the teacher made eye contact, Petra felt her spine go rigid and her blood freeze. That teacher was just about as human as Petra, but something said she wasn't an alien either.

Petra kept quiet when she returned to her seat, and intended to do nothing for the remainder of the school day except stare out the window and tug at her compression suit, but there was yet another bell that rang. Instead of being able to leave, the teacher declared it was time for "music" and the children happily buzzed and flowed out the door in a line. _Did I miss something else about human school?_

When the kids arrived, there was a small room filled with odd looking instruments and posters. At the front of the room sat a pleasant but vacant looking woman, and students pulled small black bags out of their backpacks and hoodie pockets. From those bags came a slim tube with a flared bit at the end and a column of holes. Some of the better dressed skoolkids had ones with pretty designs or colors on them, but most kids had plain ivory colored ones. All the students sat on the brightly colored rug in front of the teacher, but before Petra could join them the teacher floated over and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You must be the new student, Petra. My name is Mrs. Mayer. It's okay that you don't have a recorder, but you won't be able to play in class until you get one. Make sure to tell your parents that you need to buy one as soon as possible, okay?" Her voice was floaty, but slow and exaggerated.

"Yeah, okay." Petra peeled the teacher's hand off and stepped around her. Humans always got so close, it was like they'd never heard of a bubble before. After the new student had taken her seat, the teacher sat on a low stool in front of a long wooden box. It had a bunch of small rectangular black and white things all in a row, and pedals near the bottom.

"Alright children, we're going to do our warm up now. Today instead of saying the notes, I'm going to play the melody on the piano and I want you to repeat after me." With that, she played a simple melody by pressing down on the little rectangles.

 _Oh my Tallest, this noise is_ awful _,_ Petra thought as the children played their "recorders". The worst offender was Petra's master. The other student's noises were like screaming, but followed the same general pattern as the teacher. Zim, however, sounded like he was screaming into the tube and it was just one monotone, screeching whistle. Dib was actually pretty good. Mrs. Mayer's face was completely vacant, like she couldn't hear a thing. Petra felt admiration rise in her heart. She must be the bravest of warriors to hear this noise and show no pain. Mrs. Mayer was an inspiration.

The rest of the warm up consisted of similar patterns and melodies, and eventually they played a song called "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". While the students all sounded like dying animals, the teacher used both of her hands to make a very pretty noise. While it wasn't a song that Petra recognized, she found herself fascinated. The children were let go to play with their recorders and something called a zy-lo-fone, and Petra sat down at the piano. The teacher quietly watched her press down on the buttons and make various noises, but the symbols on the paper on top of the piano made no sense.

"Have you played the piano before?" she asked, just barely loud enough so that Petra could hear over the racket. Petra shook her head.

"What does this mean? What language is this?" she asked, pointing to the papers. Mrs. Mayer looked a little taken aback at that comment.

"This is sheet music, it's just music written down. Many children can't read it, especially if they don't play an instrument. Do you want me to tell you how to read it?"

"Yes, please." she eagerly replied. As the class progressed, the teacher would point to a symbol (which was called a note) and then play it by pressing on a "key". The lieutenant soaked it up like a sponge, and the feeling was quite foreign. Most information of this nature was downloaded into the PAK, but simply learning it felt strangely exciting.

By the time the class finished Petra had silently memorized many of the notes and could point them out on the keys. When the bell rang for the kids to return to their homerooms, Mrs. Mayer held Petra back. "Petra, if you would like to learn more about piano I can give you private lessons at my house. I'd like to test your abilities a bit- here, take this card. Get your parents to sign it and you can come." Mrs. Mayer pulled a small card out of her pocket and gave it to Petra before ushering her to follow her classmates. When she got to class she had a chance to read it.

The card was advertising private piano lessons every afternoon taught by Sarah Mayer. It had her address and her phone number, and said the first two lessons would be free. On the back it had two lines left empty for those signatures. Well, it didn't exactly relate to the _mission_ per say, but it would give her human skills and… stuff. She made up mind to go the next day and learn more about this piano junk.

"Go home!" Ms. Bitters screeched as the final bell rang. Now she was finally allowed to leave this horrid place and perform an analysis of the day's events. She quickly scurried out the door as children pushed themselves out of windows and sprinted to the exit. When she reached the exit and the front steps, she saw that it was still raining as hard as that morning. She opened her umbrella and began to walk back home when she felt a piercing gaze burn holes through her back. The source was none other than Dib's companion that morning, the little purple haired human holding a black umbrella. They gestured for her to follow shot a cold bolt of fear through Petra's spine, but she fought her flight response and silently followed the human behind the school.

(A/N: I promise not to make author's notes a recurring theme, but you might have noticed that these chapters aren't as long as the first. No worries, the next chapter is much longer. About 3,000 words longer, if I read the word count right. Can't tell if it's 5,000 words of garbage or if it's good, but it's currently 1:00 AM as I finish writing the fifth chapter, so I don't know. Anyways, please continue to read and review, and thank you as always!)


	5. Lade

The human led her to an area behind a school where there was lots of colorful, faded structures and various toys. Petra spied the door the children were rushing to during lunch, and deduced that this was a "playground". Dib's companion led her to a very large tree right on the outskirts of the playground and finally turned around to face her

"My brother's been acting worse than usual, as of late." they announced. Presumably, they meant Dib.

"I'm… sorry? About that? I'm afraid I don't know what I have to do with your situation." Petra said.

"And as his sister and the apex predator, I need to scare off any lower chain predators that might be trying to feed off of him. It's no fun for me to torture him when he's upset. And when I'm not having fun, _you're_ not having fun." The human walked up to Petra until their umbrellas were just barely touching. Sister- so the human was a female. The word sister set something off in Petra's head though; but when she tried to source it, it was blurry and it just made her head hurt, so she shook it off.

"I'm sorry you are not having fun, but I have not spoken to your brother before. I have just come to Skool today, so I don't even know who your brother is." she explained, but to no avail. The girl only seemed to get more irritated and gripped the umbrella handle so hard that Petra feared it would snap. What was up with this kid? The day had been very quiet overall, besides the incident from this morning. Dib's sister checked her watch and sighed in an annoyed way.

"My name is Gaz Membrane. _DON'T_ forget it." the girl stressed, pressing the edge of her umbrella into Petra's so hard that the spokes began to bend. With that, Gaz stormed off while muttering something and occasionally checking her watch. Petra was left standing in the rain, very confused and slightly unnerved.

Gaz was very irritated. If that Petra girl had only just arrived, what was Dib's deal? Why was he acting like such an idiot? Well, more than usual. While she was naturally untrusting of new people, she genuinely couldn't think of something that Petra could have done within this one school day. He wouldn't say anything if someone asked him directly- maybe she would have to do some snooping around in his room. If only she had a little more time to press Petra, she would have gotten an answer, but tonight was the first chance for people to pre-order the VPH 3 DLC pack and she had to be online when it went up.

Petra watched the black umbrella get smaller and eventually turn around the side of the Skool before calling GIR to come pick her up. Today was tiring and she didn't feel like walking. He dutifully arrived and she made sure to control him enough so that she could inconspicuously ride high in the air and land in the front yard of the base. Once inside, she closed her umbrella and threw it on the floor next to the door, allowing herself to collapse on the couch. Very faintly she could hear Zim monologuing to himself and working down in one of the upper layers of the lair, and heaved a sigh. GIR giggled and ran inside, and prepared to jump onto the couch next to her.

"Hey, hey, you're all dirty. And don't leave the door open like that!" Petra growled, shutting the front door while GIR pouted like a scorned child. She checked the cabinet for towels, but there weren't any. In fact, there was only one towel on the surface level of the base, and it was in the refrigerator. _This place sure is a- what do they call it on this planet? Bachelor pad,_ Petra thought, towelling Gir off and wiping up the mud from the floor. There was work to do on even the most basic of levels- no wonder her master was banished from Irk. He was intelligent enough to become an Irken Elite and be a pivotal part of the first Operation Impending Doom, but he was constantly foiled by a human child and more often his own ego. It was really a shame.

There was only the bare basics for a human house here- a living room, kitchen, and a bathroom. No place to clean clothes, the toilet was in the kitchen instead of the bathroom, and no bedrooms. Petra really wanted to make improvements to the surface portion of the base, but she was genuinely too worn out to do it. Maybe if she took a quick nap she would feel better- but if she went downstairs she felt like she would get an assignment from her invader. "Computer, please shut the blinds on the windows," she called, and metallic shields covered up the exposed glass. After removing her disguise and even turning off her accent (she wanted to be _really_ comfortable), she got back on the couch and allowed the allure of sleep to make her eyelids heavy. Within moments she had completely passed out, physically well but emotionally exhausted. GIR, uninterested in television seeing as the Scary Monkey Show wasn't on yet, wandered downstairs to see what his master was up to.

Just a few minutes after the lieutenant had sunk into blissful slumber, a familiar boy peered into the front window of the house. He couldn't hear the distant screech of the intruder alarms, meaning the tiny robots that he had sent in months ago had finally managed to take Dib off the security's blacklist. However, the windows were covered for some reason and he couldn't see inside. Well, he would have to risk sneaking in through the front door, but that didn't sound very appealing. GIR wasn't an issue, and Zim spent most of his time in the subterranean base, but the newest addition was currently unpredictable. With this new variable, repairing the secret hidden cameras and collecting information would be difficult.

Very quietly, Dib knocked on the front window and waited to hear a response. When there was none, he simply opened the door and walked inside. It really was a good move convincing Zim that locks on front doors were against Earth hospitality and were abnormal. Dib couldn't bask in his glory for too long, though, as he spotted what he thought was Zim sleeping on the couch. He ducked into the hallway facing the living room and observed.

The room was dark, seeing as the blinds were down and there were no sources of light, but he could tell after a moment that the figure sleeping on the couch was not Zim. It was slightly bigger, and it had curly antennae. It appeared to be Irken, but it looked more like Tak than Zim. Perhaps this creature was also a female- assuming that Tak _was_ female. He mulled it over as he snuck around the surface level, replacing damaged hidden cameras that had been rendered useless during one of GIR's trademark manic episodes. It was hard to determine if this was Petra's true form, seeing how different Tak in Irken form and human form were. As he prepared to go downstairs, he heard a rustling from the couch and felt himself be instantly snatched up by a set of robotic spider legs.

As he focused his eyes, he realized that he had something resembling a gun you see in sci-fi movies pointed at his head. "How did you get in here?" the alien demanded.

"F-front door." he stammered in confusion. She(?) had much paler skin than Zim, a weird brand on her forehead and large muted purple eyes- she was _definitely_ not that egomaniac. She lowered the weapon in disbelief, and walked over to the front door. "Are you serious? He didn't even put a lock on this?" She inhaled quietly and he could have sworn that she heard her mutter _The Tallest are testing me._

"Who are you? Where is Petra?" he barked, regaining his confidence. If she was as stupid as Zim, maybe she would reveal something about herself by accident.

"I'm uh- I'm-" She couldn't just say her name, her cover would be blown! "Lade! My name is Lade! Petra is a… a robot that I use to gather data- but you don't need to know that. If you're lucky to live after this I'll make sure you never tell anyone what you saw." Petra growled.

Dib felt a knot of anxiety swell in his stomach as the gun was pointed back at him. Lade wasn't like Zim, she might actually kill him. As he opened his mouth to begin desperately backtracking, he heard a familiar noise of someone travelling back up from the lair. He could see Lade panic and she very quickly shut him into a room that was off of the hallway. Once he got his bearings, he tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Great, Zim won't put a lock on the front door but he puts one here." The room appeared to be a bathroom, but Dib had never been there as the other cameras showed no one ever going inside. Zim's ignorance of humanity was even more apparent as there was no toilet, the bathtub was hanging off of the wall, and the sink was upside down near the ceiling.

Outside, the lieutenant lifted the blinds just in time for Zim to exit the secret elevator and march up to her. "Petra, I'm going out to do some research. I will be taking GIR and the Voot Cruiser for a couple hours, so you must guard the house. Understand?" he briefed quickly.

"Of course, my master." she replied stiffly. Zim became aware of the loud banging and muffled shouting coming from direction of the hallway.

"What is that noise?" he asked suspiciously.

"Uh, it's probably just the wind!" Petra exclaimed. Her invader gave her a suspicious glance and she flashed a sharp-toothed smile. "It's still raining pretty hard out there, ha ha." She very politely ushered him past the bathroom and to the end of the hall where the stairs were. "Be safe, come back soon, I'll protect the base. Okay goodbye master!" she called out hurriedly, and Zim slowly began ascending the stairs.

"Oh, and by the way- it was cool to be called master at first, but now it's kind of weird." Zim said, stopping on the stairs momentarily.

"Of course sir, whatever you want!"

With that, he went upstairs and Petra could hear the Voot Cruiser whirr to life upstairs and GIR raced past her and into the attic. It was only after she could hear the roof open and shut that she allowed a scowl to form on her face. Dib had been quiet for a little bit, and was hiding inside the bathtub. From the doorway, you couldn't see inside the bathtub, and his plan was to ambush whoever came inside first. One of Zim's many flaws was his smaller size. He was very agile and stealthy, but he had to make up for his lack of strength through technology. Maybe, just maybe, if he caught his captor off guard, Dib could make his escape!

So, when the door opened, he stayed silent and waited. When he saw the bottom half of her body arrive in front of the tub, he jumped out to knock her down. However, she was much faster. Quicker than he could register, her claws wrapped around his neck and gripped him much harder than any human could. He began to choke and struggle and Dib began to panic.

"You _will_ show me where you placed all your little bugs and how you got inside, or else you die here." she snarled, and Dib frantically nodded. Finally, she released him and Dib laid on the checkered tiles gasping for air. "If you try to run before we finish, you're dead. If you lie and I find something, you die. If you show me everything, you get to live. Deal?"

Dib, still recovering, nodded once more and extended his hand. To his surprise, she shook it and pulled him up off the ground. He let her pull him out of the bathroom and watched the lieutenant gesture to the living room. Without a word, he began collecting the tiny cameras from corners and crannies.

"Is there any footage from inside the base?"

"Uh, no. This is the first time I have put cameras in here." he lied, bracing himself. However, she seemed to take this completely at face value and brushed it off. At least he would get to keep what he had. Considering that there was no footage of the subterranean lair, he didn't have much.

After he had every camera, he began to put them in his bag, but Lade grabbed his arm and forced him to hand the small pile over. She picked one out and inspected it with a wary eye. "These are miniscule. Very clever- if you hadn't gotten caught then they might have worked. But the living elements are always the issue, aren't they?" she mused, dropping the camera back into the pile and crushing all of them in her fist. "So how did you get in? When I- I mean, when Petra answered the door to you yesterday I was watching. There were alarms, how did you get around them?"

"I sent in nanobots months ago, they made the security system whitelist me." he admitted. It was better to tell the truth than to die.

"How did they do that? Irk it, now _I'm_ going to have to go rewire half the computer." the lieutenant groaned, before pausing. "Wait. You come down and show me where your little bots are and you fix it. Your meddling isn't my fault, I shouldn't have to clean up this mess." With that, she tugged him to the toilet entrance and flushed it to send him down, before following soon after.

As they descended, Dib looked up to see the platform that was carrying "Lade" down above him. Of course it wasn't Petra- he should have just looked at her hands. Petra had five fingers per hand, like a human. Lade had three fingers, like an alien. AND Petra had an accent while Lade did not. Internally he slapped his head for not realizing it sooner. She seemed very intelligent for a simple robot, but her creator had proven to be smarter than the other alien on Earth. At least he didn't have to worry about more threats at school.

Above her prisoner, Petra heaved a sigh of relief. Lade was a close friend from the academy, and Petra hoped that she wouldn't mind if she borrowed her name for a little while. She was thanked the Tallest that her holo disguise was so convincing. Her three fingers became five when she turned the disguise on- technology was a beautiful thing. That Dib was a nuisance, though. If she had gotten caught with a human that had infiltrated the base because she was sleeping, who knows what the master- wait, _Zim_ would have done to her. As they exited the tube, the sounds of rain and even a little bit of thunder were just barely audible deep below the surface.

"We're going to go to the security console. That's where I assume your bots are?"

Dib nodded and began walk. He went down into a hallway in the opposite direction of the security room, and it became quickly apparent that if he had ever been down here, it was not long enough to get acquainted with where anything was. The lieutenant pulled a small strip of cloth out of her PAK.

"Put on this blindfold and I'll take you to the security console." Petra sighed, and Dib let out a small indignant huff.

"I might not know where the security thing is, but I shouldn't have to cover my eyes!"

"Just do it." With that, she tied it around his head (underneath his glasses), and began dragging him down the hall. If he didn't know where anything was, that would be an advantage should he ever get inside the base again. No need to let him explore. Everything was fine for roughly a minute, but then the human began acting up again. To her chagrin, Dib made it his mission to run into as many things as possible, even going so far as to trip on his own shoe and fall over.

"Cut that out!" the lieutenant exclaimed in frustration.

"Cut what out? I can't _see._ " Dib replied smugly. He wouldn't push it too much, but maybe if he annoyed her enough she'd let him see so he could collect information. But, to his shock, he felt himself being hoisted up on his captor's shoulder. They were practically the same height, but she was definitely lighter than him. How could she just lift him like that? What was Lade?

"How did you even manage to direct the bots to the security console without knowing where it was?" Petra inquired after a moment.

Dib tried to resist the urge to answer, but he was so proud of his tactic he couldn't help but brag. "I picked up a radio frequency coming from underground to the attack gnomes when they kicked me out, and I figured that if I released bots into this house that were tuned to chase that signal it would find the console soon enough. All I had to do was keep coming back to trigger the signal."

"That was surprisingly smart. Too bad you weren't smart enough to evade capture."

"And how exactly would you done it?"

"Pff, like I'd tell you."

After some time, they arrived at the security console and Dib was given back his vision. Petra lifted the panel off of the console and gestured for him to fix it. He did his best to soak up this new technology as he plucked his little bacteriophage-esque bots off of the motherboard. He could feel Lade/Petra watching over his shoulder, and when he was done she gave his precious bots the same treatment she gave the cameras.

"Computer, do a deep scan for spyware and foreign programs. And as for you, get comfortable. You're not going anywhere until I'm done here." Petra declared, giving a side eye to her prisoner. Dib gulped audibly and settled down against the wall of the small room. Why did she want him here? Was this mind tricks, or something more devious?

"Tell me about you," Petra said, inspecting the hardware of the console. The way it was built, she couldn't change the kind of signal it put out, but there were a couple of quick tricks that could make sure nobody pulled anything similar to this again.

"Why would you want to know about me?" Dib asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

"You really do ask a lot of questions. It's useful information to know, seeing as I'll be on this dirtball for the foreseeable future. Besides, what else are you going to do?"

Dib mulled it over for a few minutes, debating whether or not to talk, but he could resist it. He was a natural born chatterbox, and passing up the opportunity to talk was like a crack addict ignoring a text from their dealer. Impossible. "I'm Dib Membrane. Your robot probably gathered that I've got a sister, and my dad is a famous scientist. He doesn't understand my paranormal studies, but everyone will understand once I have the evidence. After all, I'm my father's son! That's why aliens like _you_ are gonna end up on an autopsy table and I'm gonna be a millionaire." Dib bragged, a smug look washing over his face.

"My master's been on Earth for- how long now?- two years, at least. Are you've been pursuing him this entire time?"

"Yeah, and I've foiled almost every plan he's hatched all on my own. I'm _this_ close to exposing him, really!"

"Well you've had two years to do it and you still haven't. Maybe by bragging about your apparent victory you've assured your own defeat." Dib seemed to get aggravated at this, and huffed while rolling his eyes.

"Wow, verbose much. We call that getting jinxed on Earth, in case you haven't noticed." At least he still knew more about Earth than these aliens, that was his advantage.

"What is a jincksed?" Petra paused and turned around to face her prisoner. No matter how long she spent combing through dictionaries, there was no way she'd be able to capture the entirety of human language in her mind. She could get close, though.

"It's not 'a jinxed', it's 'a jinx'. Seriously, have you been here for a day?" Dib asked sarcastically.

"Yes."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess."

Petra turned back to her work and heaved a sigh. She was attempting to make the signal untraceable by allowing it to latch onto anything that picked it up and scramble the radio wave before it was received, but it was more complicated than it sounded. There was some time left before Zim got back, so maybe she could finish by then. Petra called out to the computer to send her a myriad of parts and tools, and pulled up the manual on the console screen. "Oh, Computer please send me a chair," Dib shuffled quietly behind her, and she turned back to look at him. He didn't meet her eyes and instead crossed his arms and tensed up. "Two chairs, actually."

A pair of wheely chairs shot out of the back wall and slowed down to sit in front of the screen that occupied most of the wall. Petra took a seat and looked back at her captive. "Are you just really into sitting on the floor or something?" she asked after he didn't respond.

Truth be told, he was very uncomfortable. The floor was super cold and hard, but he was too proud to admit it out loud. Still, he took the chance to sit at in the nice cushioned chair so he could be close to the technology. When he got up there though, he realized it was all much too complex to understand at a glance, and sitting next to Lade made him nervous. At least he wasn't on the floor.

"I'm going to defeat, Zim, you know. And you too, now. Even if no believes, even if no one supports me, I'm going to do it." Dib muttered, angrily crossing his arms and puffing indignantly.

"I don't see the point of trying to do all that when nobody cares."

"You're an alien. Your race is selfish, it's only natural that the idea of a hero is foreign to you." To his surprise, he caused Petra to laugh. It wasn't a genuine laugh though, it was dry and almost cynical.

"Oh, that's rich. You humans and your ways keep on surprising me." she settled into what she perceived as a pleasant quiet and worked. Things were going along smoothly, the initial scan had come back clean, and she was set to be done before Zim returned. Things were going to be just fine.

"What about you, Lade?" Dib inquired suddenly, breaking the silence.

"What _about_ me?" she replied after a brief pause, using what looked like a weird crochet hook to poke around deep inside of the dashboard. First going from P-34 to Petra, then Petra to Lade. All these name changes were making her dizzy.

"Well I told you about me, you should do the same. It's a… human courtesy. Humans are very particular about fairness, for future reference. You can start with why you want me here." Dib, in Petra's opinion, was not only different in his head size and intelligence, he was also more entitled than the other humans she had met. Besides maybe Ms. Bitters. But still, she found herself admitting the truth to a near stranger, if not enemy.

"...I didn't want to be by myself."

Dib paused and watched his captor in shock. She was stoic and stony, but he could hear the genuinity in her voice. She was uncomfortable, nervous, maybe even annoyed. Oh, how the turntables.

"Excuse me? Are Irkens super social or something? I mean, Zim didn't really give off a 'gets along with others' vibe."

"If you must know, our home planet is highly populated and being alone is incredibly rare. So rare that I can't remember a time in my whole life that I've been by myself. Being alone with one's thoughts isn't always a productive endeavor, anyway. What are you looking at me like that for?"

Petra felt perfectly fine. She was sure that she wasn't saying anything that he could use against her, so she was unsure as to why he was having such a strange reaction, but he was weird to begin with. Letting it go, Petra tugged up the sleeves of her compression suit. It was fine the rest of the day but the heat from the console was becoming sweltering. It would be nice to change, but she couldn't just leave Dib here by himself.

Dib, on the other hand, was perplexed. It felt like Lade _couldn't_ be an Irken. She was anything but human physically, but she seemed to have way more layers than Zim. Facing the fact that there was still humanity inside of those he seeked to harm was uncomfortable, to say the least, and he quickly seeked to change the subject.

"Hey, where'd those scars come from?" Dib asked, quick to switch gears. Since Petra had tried to relieve herself of the heat, she had also exposed the large scars that covered her arms. All he received in return was a stony silence. _Looks like I struck a nerve._

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine."

It was hard not to see Lade as human now, and the air was becoming thick with tension. Dib didn't even know why he was apologizing. He drummed his fingers on his knees and tried to observe what she was doing, but he couldn't keep up. "So, uh, how old are you guys?"

Petra stopped working to flash him a puzzled look.

"It's getting weird in here and I ran out of ideas, okay?" That elicited a chuckle from Dib's captor.

"Zim's about 16- Irk years, that is. On Earth that would probably be around 126 years. Irk is much bigger than your little dirtball. I'm probably… 11 in Irk years, 112 in your years. I haven't checked in a while."

"So aliens don't value birthdays? I read that online but I didn't think it was true."

"I don't understand why you would value such an arbitrary date, but then again humans never cease to amaze me." The next hour or so was filled with small talk. It was almost like the encounter that Petra and Dib had in the counselor's office, if Petra hadn't been so hostile.

However, all the fun and games were put to an end as a call arrived on the console screen. Dib saw the blood drain from the lieutenant's face and she quickly grabbed the collar of his trenchcoat and pulled him under the console before answering the call. "Hello sir, is everything going alright?"

"Of course it's going well, I am ZIM and fate cowers to me- but what are you doing in here? Have you failed me in keeping the base secure?" Zim rapidly accused, raising an antennae in inquiry.

"Everything is fine sir, I assure you. The security console just needed some updating is all," she replied easily. Meanwhile, she had released Dib's coat to use her hands. Instead, she was using her legs to hold the boy under the top of the console and in front of her. Dib wriggled in confusion and discomfort, but she was able to hold him still with little effort.

"Hmm. In any case, we've run into some very minor trouble here, so there might be a small delay in my arrival back at the house," Very faintly in the background there were a chorus of police sirens. "Hey, what's that noise?"

Dib was trying to say something, but Petra now had one leg covering his face to keep him silent. "It must be my stomach, I'm starving, ha ha!"

"I've been told that lieutenants lose their energy quickly. Be sure to take care of that, it's on me if you die, Pe-"

"OH YOU SEEM TO BE CUTTING OUT SIR! That's okay, I'll see you when you come back to base okayseeyoulatersirbyebye!" Petra exclaimed, almost smothering her prisoner with how tense she was. She quickly hung up the call and froze for a moment. The whole base was quiet with nothing but the quiet whirrs of machines on standby. Dib started kicking and making noise, which alerted her to relax her grip.

"Sorry, I almost forgot you were down there."

"Forgot?! You were practically trying to suffocate me, Lade! Have you ever heard of a bubble?" Dib exclaimed, turning his head to look up at her. Oops. The bubble thing sounded familiar.

The back of his neck was killing him where she had been pressing it into the front of the seat. She flashed a toothy, sympathetic smile and patted his shoulder. Something aroused his suspicion- Lade had sharp teeth, just like Petra. Maybe it was a sentimental thing? Before he could think on it further, she pulled him up.

"I'm making some final adjustments. This'll be over soon, don't worry." she assured him, before turning back to the panel.

* * *

After some last-minute inspections, Dib was re-blindfolded and shoved into the nearest exit elevator. Petra followed him up to take him to the door and make sure he left. "I don't think I have to tell you what will happen the next time I catch you in here."

"Right," Dib replied, pulling the small fabric strip from his face. He jumped as she wrapped an arm around him and began to guide him from the kitchen to the door. "You, uh, don't have to do that, I remember where the door is-"

"You know, you probably had a chance when the only person here was my master. You're quite smart, and if it wasn't for me you probably would have infiltrated this base easily today. I'm honestly surprised that you hadn't done it a long time ago, but I digress."

"Um, thanks?"

"But," Petra pulled the boy around to face her and placed two hands firmly on his shoulders. "He's not the only one here now. I'm stronger than you, faster than you, and smarter than you, from an _objective_ standpoint. You don't stand a chance, my friend, so I suggest you learn from this experience."

Dib felt a chill go down his spine. Human on the inside or not, he could sense a coldness within that was anything but. "Learn from this… how?"

"Go back to a normal life. Forget everything you've seen- nobody would believe you, anyway. And if you do decide to pursue us, I can't guarantee that I'll be as generous as I am today." She opened the door and pushed Dib outside. "Oh, and by the way, you've been blacklisted again."

The attack gnomes whirred to life as they began shooting lasers at the young boy, who screeched and scrambled out of the yard. Satisfied, Petra closed the door. Hopefully this experience had scared him off, or at least made him smart enough not to mess with her or Zim again. Maybe if he wasn't human, they would be friends. She observed the couch again and debated going back to sleep. It was already dark outside- she might as well just do her homework. Besides, now she had to go learn Dutch.

* * *

Dib, only slightly burnt, had to walk all the way home in the dark. As expected, when he arrived at home the only person there was his sister. She had gotten the DLC pre-order first and was in a considerably good mood. "Hey dweeb. If Dad was home and you came home this late you'd be in big trouble, you know." To her relief, she got a response this time. He wasn't nearly as spacey as he had been, but he still seemed to have a lot on his mind.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I meant to come home earlier but," Dib paused, rubbing the sore spot on his neck. "I got caught up in some important business. I'm going to do some homework." With that, he left Gaz in the living room by herself.

 _Whatever he was off doing seemed to fix his issue. And better yet, I didn't have to hear about any of it!_ Gaz thought, hoping this stroke of luck would last. In his room, Dib was creating a new profile for Lade. There was much research to do, although it was much more high stakes than it was before.


	6. Human Nature

The next day was just as long as the one that had preceded it. While Petra wasn't sent to the office for answering questions correctly, she was subjected to something that humans called "Physical Education". It was like academy training, but tedious. They mostly just played a game called dodgeball in which children threw red rubber balls at each other until everyone on one side had been hit. It was fun, but Petra had not been allowed to play because she was throwing so hard someone's nose started to bleed. It was not easy to understand why Petra had to be punished for someone else's weakness, but nothing about human society made logical sense.

However, she had something to look forward to at the end of the day. When the bell rang, the first thing that Petra did was to race to the address on Mrs. Mayer's card. It was about a half mile away from the school, but it only took a few minutes to start seeing a change in housing quality. The neighborhood that Zim had chosen to live in was dark, packed, and kind of dingy in a weird way.

On the opposite side of the spectrum was Mrs. Mayer's neighborhood. As Petra walked down the street, there were people walking past with strollers and animals on leashes that waved to her. The cars in the driveway were more expensive, and the houses were much bigger and cleaner looking. It looked like something out of one of the paintings Petra had seen online.

She finally arrived at the address. When Petra approached the door, she could hear the faint sound of someone talking and playing piano inside. Petra knocked and waited.

"Oh, hello Petra! Did your parents drive you here?" the teacher asked as she opened the door.

"No, I walked from school."

"Oh," Mrs. Mayer felt a twinge of pity strike her heart. Clearly this girl's parents didn't care too much about her, and as a woman with three children it was not easy to watch. "Do you have the signatures?" Petra nodded and handed her the card that had led her there. On the back was two stamps reading Guardian 1 and Guardian 2. In most circumstances that would be suspicious, but Mrs. Mayer had already pulled her guardian's signatures and they did match up. Upon seeing the signatures the alien was promptly invited inside and led into the living room.

"I'll just be a few minutes, I was finishing up a lesson with my son. Please, make yourself at home." Mrs. Mayer floated off into the next room where you could faintly hear the talking and piano start back up again.

It was kind of funny. Mrs. Mayer looked a lot like her house. It was full of natural light and all the white lace curtains gave the space a clean, floaty feeling. The teacher had a wispy, fairy-like aura accented by her waifish figure and long ash brown hair. It was definitely a house that suited her. Most of the things in the room were white, and because of all the windows the sun shined in and made it a warm white. It was comforting, almost. _Humans put so much care into their homes. I should take note for making improvements to the base,_ Petra thought to herself.

After a couple of minutes of patient waiting, Mrs. Mayer allowed Petra inside the presumed lesson room. The piano was much different than the one at school- it was differently shaped, glossy, and totally black. Apparently this was called a "grand piano", and it cost a lot more than the one at school.

Mrs. Mayer didn't yell or scold when a mistake was made. She didn't threaten Petra, there was no violence or degradation. It was _nothing_ like being at the academy; is this really how everybody learned on Earth, or was this an isolated event? Now that she thought about it, while the Skool felt she was being locked in a box with a bunch of animals, no one got hit there either. Of course it was theoretically possible to get things done and be educated in that manner, it was just that honestly Petra had never seen it. It was more time efficient, at least with Irkens who were born to obey, to punish them well enough so that every soldier had a physical aversion to breaking the rules. Guess that didn't work on humans.

As Petra played out part of the simple song she was learning, she felt Mrs. Mayer get up and open up one of the large windows in the room. The air that blew in was gentle and cool, and the curtains blew back a bit. "It's cooling down finally. Hopefully it will cool down quickly, summer is my least favorite season." she said, resting her palms on the window sill.

"Why's that?"

"Well," the teacher began. "It's too hot and sticky here during the summer, and it tends to stick around into the fall. It feels kind of like a visitor overstaying their welcome. It's pretty cool most of the time in Amsterdam, right? That's where you're from, if I read your transfer paperwork correctly."

"Yeah," Petra replied, not taking her eyes off the keyboard. "It's usually rainy and cloudy, and the normal summertime heat here only happens once or twice a month back home."

"Did it snow very often?"

"The Netherlands used to snow in the winter, but that was way before I was born. Now it usually just rains." Petra stopped her playing to look at her instructor (who seemed to have stopped doing the instructing), and found that she was looking straight out the window and fidgeting with her hands. Mrs. Mayer was nervous, but about what?

"You live with the green- I mean, Zim. How are you related? What is it like at home?" Petra wasn't sure what Mrs. Mayer was playing at, but she knew she had to be careful.

"Zim is a… distant relative. His family is probably better considered as family friends. I call his parents- how would you say it?- _mijn tante en oom._ My aunt and uncle. We're not that closely related, though." While it was a pain to download it did feel good to speak Dutch. It was such a change from Standard- or, as they called it on Earth, English. What a coincidence that Standard, the language spoken by most every alien on a civilized planet, sounded almost exactly like English. It's a small universe after all.

"Would you consider Zim a brother or a friend, or something like that?" A friend? Hardly. He literally owned her in nearly every capacity.

"Not exactly. Hey, not to be pushy Mrs. Mayer, but shouldn't I be learning to play piano or something?"

Mrs. Mayer quietly closed the window and walked over to kneel beside the bench. "You're quite a fast learner, Petra. I think we can take a quick break. How about we meet my family, so you can feel a little more at home when you come to my lessons?"

"Uh, sure Mrs. Mayer." Petra was unsure of what this had to do with piano.

The teacher smiled widely and began to lead Petra around her large home. She met Mr. Mayer, who was a large man with an English(?) accent who seemed to have a permanent warm grin on behind his short beard. He worked as a doctor that did surgery on people's brains. There were two very blonde twin boys named Finn and Lucas, who ran around a lot but apparently were very adept with musical instruments. They said that Lucas was the older one, but they were both eight, which meant that they were in third grade. There was also two family pets- a small, fluffy "pomapoo" named Donner and a _very_ large mutt with long gold fur named Alphonse. While they looked very different in size, they both seemed very excitable and playful, and seemed very interested in Petra's smell. Obviously they had never encountered an alien before.

However, it seemed to very much excite Mrs. Mayer to bring Petra upstairs to meet her daughter, Emma Marie. However when Petra entered the room, she didn't see anybody waiting for her.

"This is Em's nursery. I've been having Peter take care of her while I taught you your lesson, but she's lying in the crib right now. Go on, take a look." Petra, suspicious and tense as it was, gingerly approached the cage-like enclosure and found a strange little creature inside. It looked like a human baby, but if it was in a cage- er, a crib, it must be dangerous, right? You wouldn't have to trap it if it wasn't a threat.

However, it just looked at her. "Would you like to hold her?" Mrs Mayer asked. _Hold_ the baby? What if it stung her? Still, it would be good research, and she hesitantly nodded.

Gently, Mrs. Mayer lifted the child out of the crib and into Petra's arm. "Like that, make sure to support her head like this… There you go." It was a strange feeling to hold it. It looked up at her with huge dark brown eyes that looked just like her mother's as it moved its limbs in a jerky manner. On anything else, the actions would have been threatening, but somehow the chubby little beast that currently was slobbering all over its own hands was very cute.

"Be careful, babies are very delicate. Have you ever held one before?" Petra shook her head and continued to look down at the child in befuddled amusement.

"Why would you let me hold it if it breaks easily?"

"Em's a _her,_ not an it. And in any case, you seem like a responsible child. She's going to be ten months soon enough, we're still waiting on a couple of teeth to come in," Mrs. Mayer replied. "Hold your finger right here."

The lieutenant was confused, but complied and held a single finger a few inches away from the baby's face. To her shock, the baby giggled and used her tiny hands to latch on. She didn't care if the person holding her was an alien or a human. "Oh." All of a sudden, Petra had gained a very basic understanding of humanity.

The baby, unlike a smeet, was born without any understanding of the ally and the enemy. Humans were not born with an allegiance to the empire, no fear, no pain, no knowledge of the past. The thing that strung the species together was not loyalty and collective fear, it was empathy. Ignorance. Meaningless, senseless, blind trust. An Irken wouldn't care if half its team was killed in battle, as long as the dead were replaced as quickly as possible. A human would care, because they could emotionally put themselves in place of people they didn't even know. This was why humans could start revolutions with just one person, this was why humans started charities and gave to those in need. This one simple fact was why humans were like nothing that Petra had ever seen before. The realization stirred emotions Petra couldn't identify, like using muscles you didn't know you had.

And in that moment, Petra felt strikingly… human.

* * *

An hour passed before Petra left Mrs. Mayer's house. After she had met Emma Marie, they returned to the lesson and the teacher asked some questions about what life was like in Amsterdam and at home. Petra left with some new sheet music, a letter to her parents about her classes, and the knowledge that she could come anytime she liked, even if it wasn't for piano.

"Julia?" Mr. Mayer poked his head into the lesson room to find his wife sitting on the piano bench, looking out the window in quiet contemplation. When he called for her she smiled and scooted over to offer him a seat. "Why'd you bring your student around the house, love? You never do that," he said. "Not that I mind, of course."

"Nobody drop Petra off _or_ pick her up. I'd understand if she came from a family that worked night shifts to get by- my parents were like that- but she comes from a well off family. She wears name brand clothes, she's an exceptionally fast learner, and her English is very good despite presumably speaking Dutch her whole life. I can't imagine what made her parents put her with a different family, let alone an ocean away from her home."

"We don't know the whole story, love."

"Oh, I know, I know. It's just… She doesn't act like the other kids. She acts like a little adult half the time, and the other half of the time she acts like an alien who doesn't know anything about the world. Petra said she had never held a baby before, but by the way she acted I wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't seen one either. And her guardians here are _Zim's_ parents." Mrs. Mayer rubbed her temples, clearly unhappy with her student's current situation.

"Zim? Aren't his parents the ones that no one has ever seen outside of that one parent-teacher night where they made an absolute mess? Those poor kids, their life at home must be hell! Those two didn't seem right at all." Mr. Mayer replied. He was there with the kids for that (Em hadn't been born yet), and witnessed the whole event firsthand. The father apparently lost his arm in "the war", but the other one were quite obviously also prosthetic, but everyone was too polite to say anything. The mother dressed like a lunatic and had two prosthetic legs, and both of them were outrageously strange and violent.

"Yeah, not to mention that they were arrested for running a fake zoo to scam people. I've asked, and _no one_ can figure out how they got out. No one, Peter! Zim already shows signs of some sort of personality disorder, and his weird skin thing probably isn't helping." Mrs. Mayer groaned and made a fist. "If either one of those kids comes to school with a bruise, I swear I'm calling CPS."

"Julia. You've already tried to call CPS. They came and went and now they refuse to go back into that house- I can't imagine why, but there's nothing we can do. I don't even know how you expect Petra to pay for lessons in a house like that." Mr. Mayer wrapped an arm around his distressed wife and patted her leg. In response she leaned in and nestled her head into the crook of his neck. He heard her let out a long sigh and absent-mindedly run her fingers across the keys of the piano.

"I… I just want to let kids like them have a safe place. The Skool is near such a nice, well policed neighborhood and most kids come from there, and they really don't need a safe place like Petra and Zim. I just can't help it, Peter."

"Look, love. Not to brag, but I'm one of the top neurosurgeons in the nation. We make a stupid amount of money, and teachers aren't paid much. While the income from the Skool and your piano lessons are great for our savings, it wouldn't do much damage just to do Petra's lessons for free. In any case, you know I don't mind if you have those kids over after school for a snack or to play with the twins. You can't change anything about what happens at home, but you can make it a little more bearable." Mr. Mayer smiled down at his wife and gave her a loving squeeze. In her heart she felt a warm sense of relief and she gladly returned her husband's smile, then leaning in and giving him a gentle kiss.

"Ew, gross!" Lucas called from the French doors that lead into the kitchen. The parents couldn't help but burst out laughing, which woke up the baby upstairs. Mr. Mayer rolled his eyes and shot a knowing smile at his wife before heading upstairs to take care of Em. Just then, Lucas and Finn tried to walk back into the kitchen.

"Aw, don't try to run away, Lukey! Come here my little _honigkuchenpferd!_ " Mrs. Mayer cried, getting up from the bench and running up to squeeze his cheeks and pepper kisses all over his sweet little face.

"Agh Mama, _hör auf_! Don't call me that!" he protested, but still while laughing.

"Oh, would you prefer I called you _knuddelbärchen? Mausezähnchen?_ " she replied, leaning in to tickle his sides while giggling.

"No, no Mama! Stop it, _hör auf, hör auf!_ " Lucas laughed, his face turning red. Finn snickered at him.

"Don't make fun of your brother, you're about to get this treatment too!" Finn immediately stopped and made a bolt out of the kitchen and down the hall. Mrs. Mayer ran after him, laughing and smiling. There was no repairing her student's lives, but she could always make her own children's lives as full and happy as possible. Maybe that could be enough.

* * *

The rest of that week was mostly uneventful for Petra, although she did enjoy the art class that the Skool had once a week. She didn't end up visiting Mrs. Mayer's house again until Friday, to ask about her payments for piano lessons. Mrs. Mayer just said not to worry about paying and to come over whenever she felt like it. She said that if Petra wanted, she could even bring Zim and they could play with the dogs or have a snack. That was very kind, but Petra kept it to herself. She didn't want to have Zim ruin this nice, quiet thing she did just yet.

On Saturday morning, Petra came out of the lair after a night of human culture study to find GIR sitting on the couch watching Saturday morning cartoons and eating cereal. The upstairs part of the base was much improved, seeing as Petra made some modifications based on what she'd seen in a real human house. There was now actual towels and stuff in the linen closet, the bathroom was usable for humans, there was two bedrooms on the surface level. For the most part, the base looked the same though, now it just seemed like an actual house.

"GIR, don't spill on the couch, I don't feel like cleaning that up," Petra said, and the little robot absent-mindedly nodded and wiped at his mouth with the dog costume's sleeve. At this point, Petra still wasn't totally sure how GIR was able to eat, but then again most things with the unit were a mystery.

She felt her knees weaken and remembered that she had not eaten in a few hours, and made a beeline for the pantry, before hearing the secret elevator whirr up behind her. Zim opened the cabinet doors and crawled out of the secret entrance (the toilet was now replaced with a long countertop that had a cabinet on the bottom) before standing triumphantly and grinning.

"I, the incredible genius ZIM has come up with a master plan, and I require my faithful servant to assist me!" he declared, his voice haughty and overly loud.

"Me or Petra?" GIR asked from the couch, to which Zim had a little 'oh' moment.

"What? No GIR, I'm talking about Petra!" he cried, regaining his composure. GIR, seemingly pleased that he could keep watching cartoons, let out an excited squeal and nestled deeper into the couch. "Anyway. I need you to help me downstairs by testing out this new serum for immunity to water."

"Of course, sir."

"I'll meet you down in the lab, then." Zim then jumped back into the cabinet and went back down the elevator. Petra grabbed a bag of her favorite treats from the pantry and scarfed them down before following her invader down to the lab. By the time she got there, she felt the energy return to her limbs and Zim was waiting by a small metal table with wheels.

"Petra! Finally! You should never keep your invader waiting, you know," Zim chastised, wagging a finger at his lieutenant.

"Of course, sir, I deeply apologize. I should not waste your time. In the interest of efficiency, what exactly are we going to do?" Zim put a very self-satisfied smirk on his face and gestured to a chair that was secured to the floor with vine-like tubes and wires.

"Have a seat and see what ingenious invention I, ZIM, have created!" Petra took a seat, but internally felt a tinge of hesitation. Zim didn't exactly have the greatest track record with his "ingenious" plans and creations. _If this kills me, I guess that's that,_ she thought to herself as Zim picked up a syringe from his metal table. "This serum theoretically should make you immune to water, but I need to test it first. I _would_ test it on a filthy hoo-man or some stray animal, but they're already immune to the toxicity of water, so I need you to do it."

"How exactly did you make it?" she asked as Zim used a disinfectant wipe on her arm.

"It's an ultra concentrated version of the component in paste that makes Irkens immune to the pollution in water." he replied. It almost chilled Petra's blood when he uncapped the needle.

"So do you have any idea how well this will work, sir?"

"FOOL! Expect only the best results from the creations of ZIM!" he crooned, sticking in the needle just a tad too hard. Despite his total confidence, within just a few minutes of the injection her whole arm felt like it was on fire. Within an hour, Zim had to place her in a full monitoring pod to make sure she wasn't "like, dying or whatever".

The inside of the pod was cool and comfortable, but just underneath Petra's skin felt like molten lava. The scars on her arms felt the worst, and one or two had somehow re-opened and she was bleeding out just a tad. Petra was sure that this was the worst agony she had ever felt, but something in the back of her mind told her there was a worse pain. However, when she tried to remember it, it was just another blurry memory that ended up causing a pounding pain in her head.

"Well, your condition appears to have stabilized… how do you feel?" Zim asked. In response his lieutenant could only choke out a vaguely vomit-y noise and flutter her eyelids. "You're right, Zim _is_ a true genius for being able to stabilize you so quickly. Now that I think about it, we haven't really talked much- but you've got a good head on your shoulders."

Petra watched through half-lidded eyes as her invader tapped away at the pod controls, adjusting the settings. "I can't give you anything for the pain, but I can put you to sleep. I'm not sure how my serum and the sedative will work together, but… whatever." While Petra was obviously concerned for her safety, there wasn't a ton she could do, so she let the allure of the sedative pull her into sleep. However, she wasn't entirely blacked out.

When she woke back up, it felt like years had passed. While she didn't feel like she was on fire, every single bone in Petra's body ached. "Sir?" she called out. She didn't receive any response- he must be in the scheming nook or something. There was no internal release mechanism (a flaw found in many older monitoring pods), so she had to pry the clear door open herself. In the process, though, she did accidentally break the egg-shaped pod, but at least now there was an excuse to update the thing.

Petra started for her room, but suddenly it occurred to her that she had a very vague recollection of the dreams she'd had. It wasn't out of place for Irkens to dream- after all, the processing of information during a sleep cycle occurs in most intelligent species. However, a healthy Irken should have vivid dreams that could be easily remembered. Usually they would be about training or practical things like that, so it was useful to remember them, so having dreams you couldn't remember was strange.

That made Petra feel bad and she couldn't shake it. "Computer, prepare the PAK Storage Retrieval Unit," she commanded. The purpose of the PSRU was to pull up subconscious memories that were normally stuffed as far back as possible to make processing quicker, and it was a nice piece of heavy machinery. It did have to warm up for a few minutes before it was used, though, which was annoying.

"Do you plan on attending school today?" the computer replied in its dry, monotone voice. _What?_

"It's Saturday, of course I don't plan on going to the Skool."

"P-34, it's _Monday_. You were asleep for over two days."

"WHAT?" It was nearly noon, she was going to be tragically late! "Why didn't anyone wake me up?"

"Zim said he wanted to let you rest as much as possible. I think he felt bad about putting you through so much torture; although I very much doubt he has the capacity for that," As much as her PAK told her to admire and respect her invader, Petra couldn't bring herself to disagree. "He ordered me to not wake you up unless it was an emergency."

Well, what was she going to do now? Being late meant you would have to attend a detention after classes ended, and she while she could change the electronic records easily enough, people would notice if she didn't go. Should she fake her own death? No, that was too permanent. Petra could have taken a sick day, but she would have had to forge a doctor's note, and there was still things she didn't know about the Earth healthcare system. Namely what healthcare was supposed to be.

"Guess I'll be late- ugh. I'll be late coming back home, Computer, make sure and remind my invader of that if he asks!" Petra shouted, flipping on her full disguise and changing her clothes. She'd been wearing them in the pod for two whole days, so they were covered in cooling gel and slightly bloody. Gross.

After Petra had practically sprinted out of the lair, the Computer began doing routine inventory. It's what it normally did when there were no other tasks to complete, and these days it seemed like taking inventory was all it did. It allowed its AI to think for a moment and noted the strange behavior of its owner. While he was far from compassionate or empathetic, Zim seemed to care about the well-being of P-34 (or as he referred to her, Petra). He didn't show it while she was awake, but little did the lieutenant know that Zim had spent nearly the whole weekend in the lair and checked on her several times a day. The actions were out of character, and the Computer actually had been worried that Zim would forget about P-34. Perhaps he had formed an appreciation for her.

 _No,_ the Computer thought, returning to the inventory. _Zim probably just figured out the P-34 is the only shot he has at conquering this miserable planet._


	7. French Fries and Flowers

The day was unremarkable, and surprisingly Petra wasn't yelled at for her lack of punctuality. The principal's secretary just issued her a detention slip upon her arrival and she had to wait in in the office for lunch to finish so she could go back with her class. Ms. Bitters didn't say anything, and to her annoyance neither did Zim. It's not like she could ask him why he didn't wake up her up, seeing as they were in public, so she had to seethe in silence.

At least Music was fun. Part of her wished that Music wasn't just relegated to Mondays and Fridays; maybe they could replace the Wednesday Art classes. While it was enjoyable to do nothing and take a break, the Art teacher was ancient and barely got out of her seat to teach anything, so the children basically just did whatever they wanted- not a great idea in a room full of paint. Petra could have sworn that the teacher had just slept the entire class.

But finally, the final bell rang and it was time to serve the dreaded detention. Petra took a deep breath as she approached the Detention Hall. Apparently, they had an entire room dedicated to detention, which seemed like overkill seeing as the entirety of the Skool building seemed to be dedicated to punishing children. But, if they had one room made to torture, then what was inside? There were many torture devices from human history that had come across in the lieutenant's research. Did detention entail iron maidens? Brazen bulls? Crucifixes and judas' cradles?

As Petra closed in on the door, she could hear pained groans and cackling from within. Would it be so bad to skip this one detention? _No, in the school's handbook it says that missing a detention would mean a home visit,_ Petra remembered. The Robo-parents wouldn't cut it under closer inspection, and what kind of damage would Zim do? Still, even faced with possibly blowing her cover, Petra hesitated. That is, until suddenly someone spoke up behind her.

"Where were you today? We missed you, girl!" It was Jessica. She smiled and tucked a stray piece of bleach blonde hair behind her ear.

"My name is Petra, not Girl." she replied in a deadpan. A look of mild discomfort crossed her friend's face before it was quickly washed away with a light laugh. _Foreigners are so funny._

"Anyway, where were you?"  
"Oh, I wasn't feeling so good this morning. I felt better in the afternoon so my aunt made me come to school,"

"Ugh, that sucks! Adults are such a drag."  
"Why are you in detention? What did you do?" Petra inquired, her hand still hovering near the doorknob.

"Mrs. Marion said I was being 'disrespectful'. Honestly, I was just doing her a favor! Women over thirty just shouldn't wear blue eyeshadow," Jessica complained, pushing past Petra to open the door. The lieutenant scrambled to make some distance between her and the torture chamber, only to find that there was no dead children inside.

Instead, the ancient art teacher was watching a soap opera on the classroom television. There was no blood on the floor, no tortured souls being eaten alive by maggots and ants. Hesitantly, Petra walked inside and jumped when the same painful noises blared from the television. "What is that noise?" she whispered, staying close to the back of her friend.

"That's just the canned laughter from the TV. I don't blame you, the TV in this room distorts all the sounds so badly it makes my ears bleed." Jessica murmured as she put her detention slip on the teacher's desk. The alien followed suit and ended up sitting in the back of the classroom, waiting for the detention to begin. Jessica didn't seem very worried at all, so perhaps they wouldn't be subjected to the blood eagle treatment (looking up what a blood eagle is isn't advisable).

Slowly, the teacher's eyes drifted from the television to the wall clock, and very slowly she turned the soap off and turned to address the two students. "Hello again, Jessica," she said, her voice gravelly and thick. In return the blonde girl forced a cherubic smile. "You already know how this goes. No talking, no sleeping, no doing homework or reading. I don't even want to hear your breathing."

Well, at least doing nothing was better than being tortured to death. But, still, Petra could feel that Jessica was up to something next to her. The teacher pulled out a thermos, which when opened let out a billow of steam. Then, she dug around in her bag for something, getting more and more annoyed as it appeared she couldn't find it. "Is everything okay, ma'am?" Jessica asked, her voice sugary sweet.

"Someone stole my teabags again… I'm taking this to HR." she growled.

"Oh, that's so horrible, I can't _imagine_ why this keeps happening! I just feel _so_ bad… Oh, of cooourse!" Jessica chirped. "I didn't drink any tea at lunch today, just go ahead and use mine!" The teacher paused to watch the student pull a tea bag out of her pocket and deliver it.

Jessica didn't seem to mind that she wasn't thanked for her effort, although maybe the teacher's low grunt was supposed to be recognition. Still smiling, she returned to her seat and patiently watched as the instructor steep the small mesh bag into the steaming thermos. While she had never drunk it, Petra had seen a lot about tea and teabags online and it seemed to be entwined with human history. It was still strange though, as Jessica had never drunk tea at lunch before and wasn't the type to sympathize with an adult, let alone a teacher.

It was only minutes after the teacher took the first sip that she stopped moving. When the beast didn't move it looked almost lovecraftian. _I didn't expect it, but I respect Jessica for taking the initiative to kill,_ Petra thought.

"Finally, she's asleep. I don't know how she's stupid enough to fall for this every single time," Jessica laughed, getting out of her seat to stretch. _Oh._

"What's in there?"

"Oh, I just crush up a couple of mom's night-time candies and put it in the teabag. Mom eats a bunch of special candies like that, so she never notices when I take some," Jessica explained proudly. "Dad caught me once, but he said he didn't care as long as I left his night-time candy alone. He won't tell me what's for, but I see a lot of commercials for it on late-night TV."

"Oh, good job, then. Hey, where are you going?" Jessica had strolled over to the desk and opened a drawer. As though it would answer the question, the blonde pulled out a hall pass collar and waved it around.

"Don't sweat it, babe! I'll go to the bathroom with this pass and you follow in about five minutes, okay? Don't forget the auxiliary hall pass," she reminded, gesturing to the big, blocky radiator that sat on the other side of the desk while clamping the collar onto her neck.

"What are we going to do in the _bathroom?_ "

"We're gonna go out the window, of course! If you're scared then just don't follow me." Scared? Of course she wasn't scared! Petra was almost offended that a _human_ of all things was going to accuse her of being scared of breaking their meaningless earth rules, when a month of academy training would be more hardship than Jessica had seen in her whole life!

"See you in five minutes." Petra growled. Jessica shot her a dazzling white smile and opened the door to leave.  
"That's what I'm talking about!" The lieutenant huffed and walked over to the radiator as her accomplice left. She then proceeded to spend the prescribed five minutes sitting on top of the hall pass, and easily hoisted it up on her shoulder with one hand when it was time to leave.

There was only one bathroom in the school with a window, and it was a very short distance from the detention hall. Right before she entered the bathroom, she remembered human children couldn't carry radiators like they were boomboxes, and adjusted to hold it in a way that made it seem very heavy. Right as she walked in, she silently peered around the corner of the privacy wall to see Jessica fixing her makeup in the mirror.

"There you are," the blonde said. "Took you less time than I expected. That radiator makes a lot of noise when you drag it, are you being followed right now?"

"Nobody heard me, it's fine." Petra replied, setting the hall pass on the floor. As she approached, Jessica frowned slightly and tapped a pink nail on her chin. "Is there something wrong?"  
"Do you dress like that because you're foreign?" Petra was taken aback slightly.

"What do you mean?" she replied nervously. She had thought she studied human culture enough that while her style wasn't necessarily mainstream, it looked normal enough.

"Your clothes are more 1995 rather than 2003. I'm an expert on fashion, so I notice these things. You sure do wear a lot of expensive brands, though," the blonde laughed. Petra turned and looked in the mirror.

They did look different enough. Jessica wore stuff like low-rise jeans and tank tops, but while doing research Petra had found these fashions to be ugly (especially denim), and had opted for something else. She found that windbreakers and high-tops looked way better, and admittedly did find an attraction to big brands. While it was more expensive to get brand name clothes (something about wearing holo-clothes all the time got on her nerves), all she had to do to get them was break into the stores at night to steal. Even if she had money, it would look suspicious to buy a bunch of expensive stuff at once, but that wouldn't be an issue if she'd shot for lower brands and mainstream fashion. Maybe she should have worn the more modern stuff, even if it was ugly.

"It doesn't look bad though, don't get me wrong. If we combined it with some more modern stuff… Wait, I know where we should go! There's a mall really close to here, we should go shopping! Do you have money? Don't you get an allowance from your parents?"

"I mean, I do have a debit card," Petra said. If anybody asked, her parents put funds in it as an allowance, but the truth was a little more complicated. She had to pick a bank that was totally digital and she had to write a program that "transferred" money from a fake account to her own to make it believable. Honestly, she was kind of proud of it, but she also could have just stolen someone's. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say.

"Oh my god, me too! Here, let me get the hall pass off and then we can go. We only have two hours, let's go," Hurriedly, Jessica pulled out a bobby pin and shimmied the collar open, before opening the door to a stall and setting it inside a toilet tank. "This toilet has been broken for years and the tank doesn't fill with water anymore, which is good for me. Hey, put your pass right beneath that little window there," she said, pointing to the tiny window near the ceiling on the far wall.

Once the radiator was in place Jessica got on top and opened the window. "I broke the lock on this years ago,"

"How many detentions have you gotten?"

"Enough," she replied simply. "Okay, I'm going to climb through and I need you to push the pass into the stall with the broken toilet. I'll throw a rope through for you, okay?" Petra nodded dutifully and the blonde scrambled out of the window. It only took a few seconds for her to pick up the radiator and put it inside the stall, and when a minute passed she got nervous that her accomplice had left. So, instead of waiting for the rope to fall through the window, she just jumped up and pulled herself up to look outside. Right below the window was Jessica, holding the rope with a shocked face.

"How did you get up there?"  
"Oh, I could reach the window so I just pulled myself up," Jessica was taller than her, so she could reach it better, so this wouldn't out her as inhuman- right? In response, her friend just laughed and shook her head.

"You must have some good of upper body strength. You just keep on surprising me! Ever tried gymnastics?" Petra climbed out and contorted her body on the way down to land in a safe crouch.

"What's a gymnastic?"

"You know what? Don't worry about it," Jessica laughed, extending her hand and pulling the alien up on her feet. "So there's this outdoor shopping center really close to here, but it would take too long to walk. You mind riding the back of my motorbike?"

"No, I don't mind." Petra had no idea what a motorbike was. Once they were both on it, she very much minded riding on a motorbike.

Jessica's motorbike was iridescent pink, and looked like a regular bike but it had a motor on it. Apparently she had her older brother hotwire it to be able to go nearly 60 miles per hour and the girl seemed to like to abuse that. At least she had picked up two motor helmets out of a duffel bag hidden in some bushes behind the school. Petra had to stand on a bar secured through the middle of the back wheel and just hold her friend's waist for dear life. While it was terrifying, at least the ride to the mall took less than ten minutes. It was still nerve wracking to ride next to cars, though (and Jessica wasn't a fantastic driver).

Once they arrived, Petra had to peel herself off of the blonde and left her to deal with the helmets. "I think we should visit that shop first," Jessica suggested, pointing to a Guess shop near the entrance to the outdoor mall. After that first store, it seemed like she had an agenda to visit every style of clothing store from Aeropostale to Hot Topic. While Jessica bought substantially more, Petra didn't escape without having some items forced into her bag. Admittedly, while juvenile, it was kind of… fun.

Petra couldn't help but get lost in thought. Friendship on Earth was definitely strange, if this was what that was. Sometimes Jessica ignored her opinions and quite often seemed to put her own agenda above the alien's comfort, but she still cracked jokes and seemed to be enjoying herself. It wasn't as though Petra had never had friends before, because she definitely did. However, their bond centered around being the top of their class, having each other's backs when they stared death in the face. But what most clearly summed it up was a saying engraved into the soldier's culture; the Irken language was the only one in the universe who didn't have a word for rest. While that wasn't true, and "rest" was often replaced with vacation or break, the point still stood. There was rarely ever a time where Petra had time to herself, let alone time to walk around a mall and bond with her friends. The empire came first. The Tallest above all. All hail the great Irken armada.

But on Earth, at least in America, there was no empire to swear your allegiance to, which was a fact that kept surprising Petra at every turn. Humans had time to build malls and theme parks for other humans to enjoy. While there were whole planets dedicated to amusement and relaxation, unless you were very high up your work was your only solace.

"Hey, why are you so quiet?" Jessica inquired as she munched on some fries from the food court.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just been a long day is all," The lieutenant laughed nervously and flashed a crooked smile. Jessica's brow furrowed and for the first time lost all traces of haughtiness or arrogance.

"Are… you not having fun? I was having so much fun with you and I didn't even stop to think if you-" Jessica's face was slightly dark and a freezing spear of anxiety and regret short through Petra's squeedlyspooch.

"No, no! I'm having fun, I like being around you. I think you're really, what's the word you use all the time- cool. I think you're cool, Jessica," Petra consoled, reaching across the table to touch her elbow. "It's just difficult to adjust to Ear- I mean, America. Everything is different here. The people, the language, the attitude. I apologize for my distractedness, I would have been more attentive had I known it bothered you." It was strange, but Jessica wouldn't meet her eyes.

"If you tell anybody this I'll kill you, but… that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me before," she admitted, and quite aggressively wolfed down a couple fries.

"Rahela and Aki and Sandra call you cool all the time! Practically everyone in the Skooll says that. what are you talking about?"

"They're different. Oh Petra, you wouldn't get it, I guess it really is different in Holland. It's just that no one means it when they say that, they just think I look cool and I act older and that's enough for them. But when you say it it just feels like- oh, I don't know- you think _I'm_ cool and not the way I act. As soon as I act normally nobody cares anymore, but with you it's different. Whatever, I'm not making any sense." Jessica nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I think," Petra began, "I think that the real you is cool. The way you explained 'coolness' to me was someone who keeps up with the latest trends, but I don't think that's true. I think if someone's cool, you respect them whether it's for their clothes or their personalities. And I respect you for being yourself. And for being my friend and being patient enough to teach me about life here, of course."

Jessica smiled to herself and twisted a scrunchie around in her hands. "Thanks. I'm glad I'm with you." With that the conversation flowed back to topics like the Skool and television shows, and the air seemed somehow lighter for the duration of their little excursion. Even the ride back to the Skool didn't seem so bad, and they got back into the detention hall the same way that they had gone to the bathroom.

Petra sat down at the desk she was seated in before and waited as Jessica gently awoke the sleeping teacher to tell her detention was over.

"W-what? Oh yes, of course. You shouldn't have gotten out of your seat, but I'll let it go seeing as you two were so quiet and obedient," So that's how Jessica did it; the teacher wanted to save face and pretended she had watched the students for two hours. For a human, the kid was a master manipulator.

After picking up the shopping bags they had hidden near the duffel bag with the helmets before going back to class, the two girls were walking together. On the way to where Jessica had locked up her bike, she spoke up as though inspiration had struck her. "Hey, why don't we give each other nicknames? Real ones, not like how Rae and Aki call me Jess sometimes." It seemed like a good enough idea, so Petra agreed. "Did you have a nickname back home?"

"I think it was Apex," Petra replied, surprising herself. She did remember getting called Apex by a lot of people for being top of the class, but not who specifically gave it to her.

"That's not very cute at all… how about something like starshine?" Jessica asked, but as soon as she said the word "starshine" the alien got a sharp pain in her head like she'd been hit and immediately her hands flew up. "Woah, are you okay?"

"I, uh, yeah. I'm fine. It was a growing pain," she lied, rubbing the back of her head. "Maybe we don't go with that one." These pains were getting strange, perhaps she'd run a scan on her PAK when she got home.

"What about for me? What do I remind you of?" she asked excitedly, a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"Hmm. I think you remind me of those little bright red flowers. The- the- poppies! You remind me of a poppy." It was true. Jessica's loud, headstrong demeanor demanded attention like those photos they'd seen in class of those bright red and green fields of poppies. Silent but commanding.

"I like that! Poppy is cute. Let's see, a good nickname for you would be something like- ah! I know, how about Pixie?" she exclaimed. "You're so petite and cheerful but you're willing to get in trouble. You remind me of a little trickster fairy." Jessica laughed and unlocked her bike from the rack in front of the school.

The laughter was infectious and Petra couldn't help but giggle. While childish, the nickname was actually very cute. "Yeah, I like that," With that, the two said their goodbyes and the alien watched her friend ride off into the distance. But, something infected her happy mood. She thought back to when Jessica had suggested "starshine" and even thinking the word set off a dull pain in her brain.

 _I need to sort this out,_ Petra thought, gathering herself and beginning the walk home. _Something is definitely not right._

* * *

"Petra, where _were_ you?! How dare you keep the great and mighty ZIM waiting!" Zim cried as his lieutenant stepped through the doorway. "It's nearly 5:30!"

"I told the computer to tell you, sir- since I came to school late I had to serve a detention after school," she explained, closing the door and turning off her holo disguise and accent. Zim dawned a 'oh yeah, I forgot about that' look on his face and shook his head as though brushing off the mistake.

"In any case how are you, um… feeling?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"I feel fine. Sir, are _you_ feeling okay?" This was an action entirely out of his character, and Petra was concerned that he had fallen ill with a brain parasite.

"Of course I am fine, I am ZIM! I will be upstairs working on the Voot Cruiser," he added quickly, scuttling into the hallway and up the stairs. It took Petra few minutes of staring after her invader in complete confusion before it clicked.

Petra had friends in the academy, and even here on this dirtball she had friends. But Zim, as long as he had lived, never had friends. The cause was, of course, the fact that he was a defective mess, but even on Earth he was alone. Her loyalty and concern may have fulfilled some kind of subconscious loneliness inside of him, and he formed some kind of appreciation for his lieutenant. Perhaps it was even a friendly affection. Tallest knows it seemed very sad, though.

Despite her pity, Petra still felt happy that Zim cared, which in itself was kind of sad. _Irking imprint,_ she thought, grumbling and heading down into the lair. _Once I get this headache issue sorted out, that's the next thing on the list._

(A/N: Hey! I know that technically this is being uploaded a day late, and I will admit it's because I procrastinated so hard on this chapter. Monday night I was up until 5 am talking on the phone with some friends, so I woke up at 2 pm the next day. Clearly I did not manage my time well, lol. Anyway, I hope the quality of this chapter didn't suffer too much because of my inability to write, and please leave a review telling me all the things you hated. Love y'all and thanks for sticking around for so long!)


	8. Hello, Starshine

It took months. Three months, one week, and three days, to be exact. The initial tests Petra ran the night of the detention yielded no results, and there was no damage or fault inside of her PAK that caused the pain. Undeterred, she kept digging. It was all in vain, though, as when she traced down farther she found a section of her memory storage was blocked off. While she suspected this was the cause of the pain, there was no helping it, as it was guarded by a 57-digit code often referred to as the "brain lock". The style of encryption was designed by the Control Brains themselves, created with a randomized code for every case. Since it was most often used on PAKs, a feature in which if any hacking was detected it would shut down the host was added, so there was no accessing the storage.

In her off time, Petra took small pleasures in watching the weather change as summer faded into fall, and fall into winter. It grew much colder and seeing as Irk was a very temperate planet, it was a large adjustment to make. There was also joy to be found in talking to Jessica, or as Petra now referred to her as, Poppy. It was strange life, to be sure, but it wasn't an unpleasant one.

Of course, her invader found it prudent to send her on intel missions now and then, but it was often low effort as he underestimated her prowess. But on the plus side, during an earlier mission, Petra found that Zim's strange experiment had worked and she was now resistant to the pollutants in water, so that took a nice load of stress off. Also, Dib also became more active in trying to thwart Zim, but both of them were oddly quiet in recent weeks. Zim hadn't sent her out or announced another ingenious plan in quite a long time, and the human boy seemed to be keeping to himself.

On this particular Sunday, there wasn't much to do around the base. Mrs. Bitters' class had started a large project on marine life that was to be turned in around winter break, but Petra had already finished hers and her invader's, and seeing as it was the weekend she had absolutely nothing to do. Watching that weird monkey show upstairs with GIR didn't seem appealing in the least, and she instead opted to do some impromptu training that consisted of spinning around in her wheely chair while standing up to test her balance. She had been doing this for a considerably impressive amount of time when she got a call on the large monitor in her room.

Dizzily, Petra scooted her chair in front of the screen and pressed "return call", admittedly missing a few times. It took a moment for her head to process what she was seeing, and when she did she was even more confused than before.

It appeared to be pair of Irkens, cloaked in shadow and light static, but it was so dark Petra couldn't make out who they were. "P-34, first lieutenant of the Earth base speaking. Who may I ask is calling?"

There was no response for a minute. "Hello?"

"Hello, starshine," a choked up female voice said, and immediately Petra had that piercing pain in her head. "I'm sorry! I didn't know the brain lock was so severe for you."

"W-who are you? How do you know about the brain lock?" she demanded. The figures looked at each other and one shook their head in disapproval.

"We can't tell you who we are- it could shut you down for good. Even seeing our faces could activate the kill switch and put you out," she said. "But we know how to shut off the brain lock. We can help you."

This was unbelievable. How would two average Irken soldiers know how to decrypt memories, let alone one encrypted by the Control Brains? And even if they did, why would they want to help someone rather than overthrow the empire? After a few minutes with one, anyone (regardless of species) can tell that Irkens ware self preserving and somewhat selfish by design.

"Don't worry, we're on a protected network. No knows about this call right now except you and us, and no one is listening in. Do you want our help?"

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. We just think you deserve to know what the Control Brains erased."

"Yeah, and I'm the next Tallest. How do I know this isn't a trick?" The figure fell silent for a moment, and the one who hadn't spoken yet was in enough light that Petra could tell that they smiled.

"You haven't changed one bit, Apex. Here's your insurance: in return for sending us the exact location of your base, we'll send you ours. You can hack our cameras, come in and kill us, do whatever you want in case we're lying. We won't show our faces so you don't go dark on us, but that's the chance you take. Do we have a deal?"

Petra was quiet for a moment. This was ridiculous- the base's location should be easily found inside of public files. Unless… Since Zim was technically banished, the Earth base wouldn't be listed publicly. Banished Irkens were kept hidden so that no one came to bring them back somewhere they don't belong.

"If you contacted the base, why do you need my location?"

"Using a SIR unit, we looked through every other SIR to see which one picked up your PAK's unique standby signal and after some intense searching, found you. However, your SIR unit is unregistered and we can't get a great signal or your location- is it broken, by chance?" GIR, broken? Understatement of the century. The deal seemed too good to be true, but it also was too good to pass up.

"I'm on the planet Earth- here, I'll send you my celestial coordinates," Petra submitted, clicking away on the console below the monitor.

"Wait, Earth? With the _Zim_? You were assigned to that defective shipwreck?" the figure said, shocked. Both of them seemed to be in disbelief, which if they knew her academy history, was an appropriate reaction.

"Well, to make a long story short, I was sent here on accident and now my imprint means I can't leave- would you, by chance, know how to get rid of that?" The figure sighed and shook her head.

"Sorry, Petra, the imprints are part of your core PAK coding. No lieutenant who has already imprinted can get rid of it without losing chunks of their mind in the process. Ever wonder why if an invader dies in combat their lieutenant can't be reassigned?" _Fantastic. This day keeps getting better and better._ "Anyways, we've sent our location back to you, but keep in mind that breaking down this brain lock will take quite a long time, and it might even be painful. Although, you were never one to complain of a low pain tolerance."

"I suppose you're right about that."

"Can't believe someone like you is stuck with that walking disaster- you were top of the class, and you were literally born to fit that role! Although," she said with a chuckle, "you weren't the best at _everything_ , especially not the first time. Oh, I'm rambling, my point is that I'm sorry you're stuck with Zim."

"He's really not so bad, you know," Petra found herself saying, even to her own surprise. "He's a little airheaded, but he isn't as bad as everyone makes him out to be." Softly, in the background, there was a small explosion and a ruckus of panicked shouting.

"...Sure he is, love. We've got to go now, and we might not call back in a little while. Don't worry though, we'll be watching."

"Right. You'll contact me?" The figures nodded in unison and logged off. With that, Petra was left alone only with more questions on her mind.

Considering they seemed to know a lot about her, there was a pretty good chance that they were from the academy as well. However, when Petra tried to think back to specific friends, she could only place a few nameless faces in a blurry sea of soldiers. Things were getting stranger by the day- could it be that all her memories from before her arrival on Earth were faked? Just the idea wore her out, and she popped open a fresh bag of her favorite treat and collapsed onto her rest bay platform.

Only a few minutes later, Zim popped his head into her chambers. "Are you having an existential crisis or are you asleep?"

"I'm awake, sir."

"Good, then you aren't busy! GIR had a small accident in the lab."

Petra dumped the rest of the food in her mouth and got up to clean up whatever mess the little hellspawn had made now. She was so distracted, she almost didn't notice that Zim thanked her as she left. Before any comment could be made, though, Zim had run off to Tallest knows where (probably the scheming nook or something). What else could possibly happen on this planet?

* * *

The next day after school, Petra came home to an empty base. She wasn't terribly concerned, seeing as Zim could quite possibly be out trying a new scheme or just fighting with Dib. However, it was slightly odd that GIR wasn't at home either. The invader had opted to take many of his excursions alone as of late, for reasons that his lieutenant didn't fully understand. But, she brushed off the odd behaviour as just another erratic action taken by an equally erratic Irken.

It wasn't until Zim failed to show up to school the following day that Petra became concerned- usually, he liked to call and unload his entire plan onto her as soon as he could, but she had received no calls. He also liked to leave notices for her to edit the class's attendance records for him when he would be missing class, but it appeared that even after she awoke from her sleep cycle there was no sign of her invader. Petra attempted to remotely trace his PAK's signal, but it appeared that he was either nowhere near Earth. If Zim had planned on leaving the planet, there was no doubt he would have said something, so that left the only other option.

Someone who knew about Irken technology had to be scrambling the signal.

 _There's not many likely candidates, at least on this planet,_ Petra thought, tapping a nail on her desk while tuning out Mrs. Bitters incessant droning. _Who does he have a past with?_ After that thought passed her mind it occurred to her that it would be easier to list those he didn't have a past with.

The Tallest could have always gotten bored with Zim and sent in a drone to kill him and take his PAK. However, that was unlikely seeing as they hadn't called since Petra's arrival, and probably would have attempted to capture her as well if they'd decided to off Zim. So, they were out.

Tak was definitely a sworn enemy. Her whereabouts were currently unknown, she had suffered a defeat to him, and he had ruined her chances at becoming Irken Elite for good- she would definitely pull something like this. However, she was quite bright and would have been studying him this whole time and known that Zim now had a lieutenant. Any competent aspiring Irken Elite would have gotten rid of the bigger threat (Petra) before kidnapping the lesser one, so she and any other alien enemy was probably out.

So, the perpetrator must have been human, an enemy, and knowledgeable about Irken technology. That narrowed it down cleanly to one likely suspect: Dib. He claimed to have restored Tak's ship, seemed to be more intelligent than the majority of his species, and was quite obviously infatuated with the idea of getting rid of Zim.

Petra turned her head to look at Dib sitting in his desk, seeming to be more chipper than usual. Was it a particularly delicious lunch, or had he finally succeeded in capturing Zim? In fact, he had been quiet for a few weeks now… was he scheming that whole time?

"Children, you're being released to Physical Education three hours early because today is the Presidential Fitness Exam. Any students found to have performed with an overall score less than 65% will be execute- I mean, sent to the underground classrooms for reconditioning. Don't forget to take your measurement and performance cards after testing is complete. Now go!" the old harpy of a teacher screeched as the bell rung. The students sighed and, seemingly exhausted by the mere mention of a Fitness Exam, trudged out the door and down the hall to the gymnasium.

On the way there, Petra noticed that Dib was staring at the back of her head and walking deliberately slowly. She, in turn, slowed down to fall behind the crowd and walk alongside him. Clearly, something was up.

"Why hello, Petra. You look restless; has something, for instance, gone missing? Just as a guess, of course." Dib smirked in a smug manner and casually slipped his hands into his pockets. While the demeanor he presented made her absolutely furious, he was right. The absence of Zim made her feel restless and melancholy, maybe even a little anxious.

"Enough. Tell me what you did." Petra replied curtly, barely containing her volcanic rage behind a stoic mask. Dib only smiled wider, clearly picking up on the effect he was having on her.

"How about a hypothetical? Let's say I managed to kidnap a certain alien while he was out of the house and hold him in a secret location- how quickly could his wounds regenerate themselves? If I were to leave him without his special alien backpack for the day, would he be _dead_ by the time I returned?" He watched with a malicious eye as Petra's hands twitched at her side. "Oh dear, did that rub you the wrong way? I forget sometimes how loyal robots are to their masters,"

Robots? Oh, yeah, that stupid Lade thing. Come to think of it, she couldn't quite remember anything about Lade besides her name; was Lade fake, or was she real? _Whatever, now isn't the time to be worrying about that_.

"Tell me where you have him, or else I'll pull your organs out one by one," Petra threatened, her gait almost mechanical because of how hard she was straining to contain herself.

"Ah, ah, ah, I don't think so. See, I can send a signal to Zim's location and take off the backpack you guys seem to need so much whenever I feel like it. Would you be able to find him in time, do you think?" Dib asked, tapping an inquisitive finger on his chin. Petra's breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed her hot anger. She needed to be cool and calm- she needed to make negotiations. Deep breath.

"How about a bargain? I get you what you want and you give me his location- anything you want, I can guarantee it to you," the alien offered. Dib raised an eyebrow; whatever he wanted? Sounded nice, but he already had something in mind.

"I think that seems fair."

"Good. What do you want? Intergalactic internet access? Rare metals? Do I need to kill someone for you? If I can't give it to you, I'll give you ten of the next best thing," Dib shook his head in reply, which made Petra's stomach knot up. What on Irk was he going to ask for? There wasn't much she could do if he asked for the Massive or something.

"I want you to get a higher score than Torque Smackey in the Presidential Fitness Exam."

"...What?" She offered up anything the universe had to offer, and this big-headed idiot wanted her to beat a human in some test of strength? What was his game?

"What, do you think you can't do it? Really, I expected a little more out of you after you offered me anything I wanted." he chuckled darkly. Truth was, he didn't need a favor from her at all. Agent DarkBootie once said that striking a deal (especially one heavily unbalanced against you), contrary to what you might think, puts you in the position of power. Mind games. Obviously an alien android would easily be able to beat a human, even if he was a sixth-grade meat wall, he just needed her to think there was a trick to it. Besides, when his plan followed through, he would have unfettered access to Zim's base and all of the technology inside it.

"Of course I will do it. I don't know what you're playing at, Dib, but I will quickly defeat whoever 'Torque' is and retrieve my end of the deal," Petra assured, speeding up to walk into the gym doors before the human did. _I don't care whatever test these pitiful earthlings give me, I'll destroy it before this 'Torque' even lays a finger on it._

* * *

First, the students had change into PE clothes and have their measurements taken and a few tests done. Dib demanded he see Petra's results, and took note of quite a few things. He was almost exactly ¾ of an inch taller than her (a fact that he relished in), she was nearly eleven pounds lighter than he was, and she had exceptional eyesight and hearing. He, of course, wrote all of this down and from an outside perspective, looked extremely creepy.

Soon, it was time for the physical portion of the exam, which all took place outside. It had been changed in recent years to promote a more competitive atmosphere for better performance, and for all that time Torque Smackey had ruled the metaphorical roost. He was the Skool's residential wall of muscle, and was so developed that some students questioned if he was a sixth grader at all. Needless to say, this event was one of the few related to school that he got excited about, and most students just scraped by so that they could watch the athletes of the school like it was the Olympics.

First up was the shot put. From a quick search, Petra discovered that it was a sport that involved slinging a metal ball as far as you could to see who could throw it the farthest. It seemed like a dumb sport, but it was worth a shot (put). The alien got in line behind the ever-beefy Torque, who was given what appeared to be a 8-lbs ball from the instructor.

He laughed, shook his head, and asked for more weight. "Give me a 10-lbs, who do you think I am?" The instructor obliged, to himself wondered if giving a sixth grader a high-school level weight was legal, and stepped back to allow the boy to take his shot. Torque jumped around for a second, felt the weight of the ball in his hand, then faced away from the intended direction of travel and placed the ball right next to his head. He then proceeded to lift his other arm, and turn into a few spins before releasing the ball out across the field.

It flew outwards until it landed in the grass. One of the security men, who had volunteered as a helping hand today, called out to the instructor to confirm that he had tossed it 28.76 feet. The crowd, made up of multiple classes, began to clap in awe of Torque's strength and prepared to move onto the next activity. The instructor even began to move the bins of shot put balls back inside the gym when he realized there was still one student left to take that portion of the exam.

"Oh, I'm sorry I missed you, usually Torque is the last one to go so everyone gets a good view. Let me see your measurement card," he said, smiling down at the small girl in front of him. She was a cute little doll, and she had an accent too. Poor thing probably had never taken this kind of test before- she hardly weighed a thing!

"I have a question," Petra stated as the instructor handed her a 2 kg shot put. "The heavier this ball is, the more points I get, right?"

"Well," he replied, slightly baffled as the children began to crowd back around as they realized one student had to go before they could move on. "Not for actual shot put, but for this test, the higher the weight is from your recommended weight the more bonus points you get, but you can pass perfectly fine without-"

"Give me the heaviest ball you have, please."

"Uh, Petra, was it? The heaviest one we have is 20 lbs, and that's far outside the weight used for adults, so no one here has used it before. I don't think you fully understand-" The children were gathering even more now as they listened to the bizarre dialogue unfolding.

"Mr. Coach, please give me the 20-lbs shot put." Her large, mauve eyes sparkled up at him with an uncomfortable purity, and the man finally relented. To his shock, when he gave her the large, dense ball her hand didn't waver in the least.

 _This was all? I thought he'd give me something heavy,_ the girl thought to herself, slightly miffed. She did the same warming up action as Torque did, then imitated his actions exactly. At the final second she launched the sphere as hard as she possibly could and sent it flying way over the head of the helping hand. The students (and teachers, for that matter), all watched the shot put sail in awe before it landed safely in the grass.

"If I'd stretched and hadn't caught that weird angle at the end that would have gone so much farther," Petra muttered to herself, disappointed. The crowd, however, was hardly that as the hand ran out quite a bit and announced that a 12-year-old girl who weighed less than a hundred pounds had just launched a 20-lbs shot put 125.76 feet. Torque's distance was impressive for a child in elementary school- Petra's distance was impressive for a _human being_.

Instead of cheering as they did for Torque, the children and the staff were dead silent as Petra strolled over to where they were setting up to time the mile. Dib was, obviously, not shocked by the fact Petra was that strong, but that she had done all that without even breaking a sweat- meaning that her limits could be pushed even further. Smackey was about to get a run for his money.

The following events went just about as well for Torque as the first did. He did 50 crunches, the girl did 65. He ran the mile in seven minutes, she ran it in five. He could bench press 155 lbs, the staff stopped adding weights to hers because they were getting concerned. Slowly, the students started splitting into Smackey and Arkanian factions and betting on who would get the better score. Most Smackey faction members claimed Petra was experiencing rookie luck and Torque would pull through in the end, but as the end of the events drew nearer and nearer the Smackey faction became almost non-existent as kids were plain sick of losing their hard-earned quarters.

However, the scores were kept secret until the very end of the exam, and they would revealed at the very end before the Skool PFE Performance and Measurement cards would be distributed to children. So, the whole sixth grade (the other grades had gotten their results) congregated around the hidden leaderboard and waited for the results to be announced. In the crowd, Petra stood with Jessica and Rahela. Despite himself, Torque seemed a little anxious. There had never been a year when he wasn't #1, and the unexpected threat presented by the new student was taking its toll on his mind.

"I didn't know you were so athletic, Pixie! You don't look it, no offense." Jessica admitted.

"Yeah, you were incredible out there! Although you probably ruined your chances with Torque, now." chided Rahela, watching the large boy be bro-comforted by some close athlete friends. "Although, who knows what doors you've opened? You'd make an awesome cheerleader."

"What do you mean, my chances with Torque? My chances to what?"

"To date him, duh. You guys date in Amsterdam, right? Torque is the dreamiest boy in our grade- he's silent, strong, and silent. What, don't you think so?" the blonde added once she identified the look of confusion on her friend's face.

"No, no, he's fine, he's just not my- how do I say- _type_."

"Oh well, that'll take care of itself as you get older." Rahela sighed, patting Petra on the shoulder. "Ooh, look, they're announcing the scores!"

The instructor from the shot put activity approached the covered board with a microphone. "Hey kids, did everybody have a good Presidential Fitness Exam?" The majority of the children cheered, while some just shivered in what appeared to be fear. "Great, great. It's time to announce the leaders of this year's exam. Tied for tenth, we have Justice Miller and Thomas McElleshire…" The curtain over the board lifted slightly to reveal the two names at the bottom of the co-ed leaderboard. The instructor continued to list out names until he reached second.

"Now, I know there was a bit of a shocker this year in terms of…" He glanced down at Petra. " _Unexpected_ competition, so I am proud to announce that in second place is…" A soft drumroll echoed through the gym as a few kids pounded their first on dodgeballs for dramatic effect.

"With an overall score of 109%, Torque Smackey!"

The crowd cheered, and Petra felt a jumble of children jostle her shoulders. "Simmer down, simmer down. Our first place winner, despite completing every task with a backpack on, gathered an overall score of 161%. She would be the first girl to be first place in 14 years, and also might have broke the world record for shot put distance. This year, in first place…"

"...Petra Arkanian!" the instructor declared, tossing his notecard of names up in the air as the pool of sixth graders in front of him went absolutely wild. Even those few still sworn to the Smackey faction were cheering simply because this was the most exciting thing that had happened in a long time, and Torque himself decided to have good sportsmanship and firmly shake Petra's hand.

"Looks like I found my match today," he said, smiling earnestly.

"A little more than your match, I think. But it was a pleasure to compete with you, Torque." she replied, looking around in the bustling crowd of children for Dib.

"Hey, I'm going to get stronger and beat you someday." he joked, roughly patting her shoulder with a large hand. "Do you have any, uh, suggestions, at all?" Petra spotted a scythe like cowlick sticking up among the sea of Skool kids.

"Find something you need, Torque," she replied. "Something you could never lose- and then fight like you're trying to get it back." With that, she melted into the crowd to find Dib and get back something worth fighting for.

* * *

"Well, look at you. You did it." Dib smirked in an annoying way. "Congrats."

"Cut it out. Give me the location, as promised." Petra replied, anxious to get ahold of her invader.

"Of course, of course," Dib dug in his pocket and brought out a folded piece of paper, which he extended out to the lieutenant. Petra reached out for it, only for Dib to put a gentle grasp over her smaller hand. "On one little, tiny condition."

"Condition? I agreed to no such thing, Dib."

"Do you have much of a choice?"

Petra frowned and huffed slightly. "What is your condition?"

"Lade must come get Zim- NOT you. I want you to stay far away, you got it?" The plan wouldn't work out at all if this powerhouse machine was protecting Lade- Irkens were quick and agile, but not nearly as strong as a robot like Petra.

"Fine, just give me the location." Dib smiled and released Petra's hand so she could snatch the paper from his open palm. Mind games were fun.

"See you when I see you," the boy said, and strolled out of the gym behind a small clump of kids. Petra looked around and saw some kids still looking at the gender specific leaderboards, and some just standing around. Jessica and Rahela appeared to have returned to class, so Petra started on her way to the locker room to change out of her PE clothes. First thing after school, Petra was going to run back to the base to change into her stealth suit. After that?

Dib was going to pay.


	9. A Special Kind Of Promise

There was a _slight_ issue.

When Petra searched up the location that she was given, every search result gave the location of the famed Professor Membrane's laboratory. It made sense, given that Dib was one of Membrane's two known children, but that made getting into the building a lot more difficult. On Membrane's website, it stated that the building was protected by a plethora of military grade weaponry and hundreds of guards, because of the top-secret research that was being done there (not to mention keep back hordes of obsessed fans). She couldn't very well walk in the front door, and chances are that every possible entrance was guarded.

 _If I can't just be stronger than Dib,_ she thought to herself, _I'll just have to be smarter._ With that in mind, a plan hatched in her mind. However, her scheming was interrupted by a call to her monitor.

"Petra, are you there?" It was the two figures from before.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something urgent," she replied. The figures looked at one another with apparent confusion.

"...What happened to your voice?" Oh. She was in such a rush when she got home, the lieutenant had forgotten to turn off her accent.

"My bad," Petra apologised, correcting the issue. "Like I said, I'm really busy right now."

"We'll keep it short, then. We've called to tell you that we've gained access to your PAK and that we can begin very slowly breaking down the brain lock, and- hey, are you alright?" Petra had unconsciously begun tapping her finger rapidly on the surface of her desk and her brow had furrowed. "Let me guess, something happened to Zim?"

"Uh, yeah, actually, how could you tell?"

"You never used to get anxious about anything or anyone but the ones you care about, and who does a lieutenant care more about than her invader? Tell me what's happening, maybe we can help you." It was odd that the shadowy pair knew so much about her, but still the restlessness that settled deep in Petra's squeedlyspooch forced her to tell them the whole story. The entire time, both figured nodded along attentively, and once the explanation was finished they both fell silent.

The Irken who didn't talk leaned over to their partner, who they placed a hand on and began tapping. The tapping was silent, seeing as it was on the other one's skin, but the motions were methodical and intentional, leading Petra to assume it was a language. If they had to speak like that, it really did explain a lot about them. _They're defects, that's why they want to help me and break the rules. Defects, just like Zim._

"Oh-mhm, yeah… I guess we agree on that. She says that we don't know enough about Earth customs and weapons to come up with something for you- but we do know that you're exceptionally stealthy, some might even say you're good at becoming invisible," The figure chuckled. "Back at the academy they called you ruthless, bloodthirsty, an apex predator… you had a tendency to pick up names, then. All of them good, of course."

Petra thought about all the name changes she'd had since her arrival on Earth. "Some things don't change, I guess," she laughed.

"Well, we're going to let you go and get Zim. Remember, it's a simple human child; don't overthink it." Petra nodded and thanked them before they hung up.

 _Don't overthink it…_ Wait. Petra smiled a sharp, toothy smile to herself, and got up to get dressed.

She had a plan.

* * *

Professor Membrane had recently announced in a press statement that he would be spending more time at home with his children, in order to play a more active role in their lives. Often times when he couldn't make it home at a reasonable hour, he invited his children into the laboratory so they could be near him and observe the 'wonder of real science'. The insane boy, Dib, often took him up on that offer and ran about generally being crazy and annoying to the guards. This, however, was a first.

The guards parted like the Red Sea as a small, violet haired girl with a vicious scowl walked through the crowd of fans who regularly mobbed the front gates of Professor Membrane's lab and right through the front door. Everyone in the lab knew who Gaz Membrane was- when you were hired, you were briefed on the cryptids that were the Professor's children. Dib was insane but mostly harmless, and should be treated as more of a nuisance than a threat. Gaz, on the other hand, was in the Professor's own words "too smart for her own good" and should be avoided. If you didn't bother her, chances are you'd survive. All of this information was actually leaked by an unhappy ex-worker for the lab, so it was available for just about anyone who happened to look online.

So, out of pure fear of the fifth grader, no one said a word as she stormed right in through the front door and began to make her way through the lab.

If anybody had bothered to look closely (no one did because they were afraid of making accidental eye contact), they would notice that the girl was slouched an unusual amount. This was because Petra was ever so slightly taller than Gaz, and she had to slouch more to compensate for the difference. While she wasn't a bad actor, it was still nerve wracking to imitate someone she'd only observed in passing, but it seemed to be working just fine. With the breaching over and done with, Petra began to look around the lab for any sign of the boy or her invader.

Before she could even contemplate asking someone where she might find her "big brother", a long shadow overtook her form.

"Hello, honey! I'm so glad you decided to join me in the lab for once! Have you opened your eyes to the true beauty of SCIENCE?" Professor Membrane exclaimed as he effortlessly hoisted his daughter onto his shoulder. "Say, Gaz, where's your _Game Slave 2_? You never go anywhere without it!"

"Dib has it," Petra answered, with a voice as gruff and dripping with venom as she could muster. The human hurricane that was Gaz hardly ever spoke, meaning that she couldn't record her voice to use, so now was the time that her skills were truly tested. "Have you seen him?"

"Of course, he's downstairs in the perpetual energy lab we don't use anymore. Honey, your voice is a little different than normal. And you're just a tad taller and lighter than I remember…" Petra uncomfortably shifted around on the Professor's shoulder. If only Gaz's father hadn't butted in!

"I'm going to go find Dib. Bye, Dad." The girl quickly leaped off the giant man's shoulder and quickly scurried off to find her target before the Professor noticed anything. However, he was frozen in place.

 _Voice changes? Vertical growth? Weight fluctuations? IS MY GAZ GOING THROUGH PUBERTY ALREADY?_ The simple thought caused the normally unshakeable man to waver slightly. Of course the Professor knew everything there was to know about human anatomy and puberty, but having his own children go through it meant that he would soon have to give Gaz a talk of her own. The insane boy was one thing- he couldn't look his precious, cynical little angel Gazlene in the eyes and tell her about the birds and the bees! _Keep it together, Membrane. There's still time,_ he thought to himself, quickly burying the discomfort. _Now, about the Super Toast 2 prototype…_

While the Professor was having a crisis above, Petra had gone down the nearest elevator and was following the quiet noises of a familiar voice monologuing to himself. As she got closer, the eeriness of the abandoned lab set in and the shadows seemed to be watching her sneak around. Mustering up calmness and channelling the demon Gaz, Petra marched into the lion's den.

"And then they'll all pay- oh, Gaz, what are you doing here? Have you finally found interest in your big brother's studies of the paranormal?" Dib asked, his voice swelled with pride.

"No. Where are you holding that alien, Zib or something?"

"He's being held two doors down that hall on your right," Dib guided without thinking. "Wait, hey! Why do you wanna know?"

"Don't pry, Dib, it's annoying." That sent a shiver down the boy's spine, as he knew the consequences for being an annoyance. However, something was off.

"I lied about where Zim is, let me take you to him myself! Ha ha," Dib chattered nervously, as he gestured for his sister to follow. Hesitantly, she did, but when they reached the door Dib claimed he lied about Zim being behind, she stopped.

"Hey, what are you stopping for?"  
"If Zam or whatever isn't in there, what is?" Dib immediately froze in place and smiled anxiously. However, he didn't make a move to stop Petra as she opened the door to find- Zim! He was suspended in a tube, much like the one she arrived in, filled with an unfamiliar electric blue jelly, apparently asleep.

"Move and I'll shoot." Without moving her head, the alien could tell that Dib had pulled out some kind of pistol-size weapon and was aiming it directly at her back. "How do I know you're my sister?"

"Shoot me." A shocked, uncomfortable silence ensued.

"...Wh- what?"

"Shoot me. You'll know I'm your sister after that, won't you? Of course, there's a 50/50 chance it would come at the cost of the closest thing you've ever had to a friend, but I'm sure you could risk the life of the only person that's ever showed any concern for you. You're just that devoted to your stupid paranormal studies- right, _big brother_?" Dib was wavering behind her. _Thank the Tallest that I'm good at- what do they call it on this planet- bullshitting!_

"Wait," Dib froze. "If you're my sister, take off your backpack and show me what's inside. If you can't do that, show me your true form." The lieutenant's blood froze. The backpack was merely a hologram made to cover her PAK. How did he know that she couldn't take it off?

In truth, Dib believed that if it was an alien or a monster, they would have dead people or something in their backpack. This idea, in retrospect, was not very accurate, seeing as Gaz was just as likely to have human body parts in her possession as any run-of-the-mill monster. In this case, though, it worked in his favor, as Petra exasperatedly put her arms up and turned around.

She allowed the disguise to disapparate, and Dib was shocked. "H-how could you have gotten inside?"

The alien paused. "Well I guess just walking in through the front door _was_ an acceptable plan this time around. Huh." Petra pondered, surprised at the ease of the maneuver herself.

"It doesn't matter! I've got you in my clutches now, and there's nothing you can do to stop m-" The lieutenant took a small step forward and casually knocked Dib's pistol upwards with an uncanny amount of force, launching it up into the ceiling where it remained lodged in the cement. "What? Lade, how did you-"

"Oh for the empire's sake, I'm not Lade! There was never a robot, the Petra you know and me are the same person, and it's called a PAK, not a 'backpack-thingy'! Don't claim to be an expert when you know nothing!" Frustrated and anxious, Petra had begun to unconsciously corner the dark-haired child. "Now for the love of all that is Irken, _let me get my invader and_ _ **GO HOME!**_ "

The silence that ensued that sentence was _spectacularly_ awkward.

"Hey, w-wait a minute, how did Zim get out?!" Dib cried, his head quickly turning towards the room he was in moments before. Immediately, Petra violently turned her whole body in the direction of the boy's gaze and frantically searched it before catching onto the trick a few precious moments later.

"Are you irking kidding me right now?" she exclaimed, realizing that Dib had scrambled into the room holding Zim and locked the door behind him. He was stupid, but he was quick. Like a cockroach. Or a rat. The anxiety of the whole situation was getting to Petra's head, making her do stupid things, which made her even more frustrated and nervous. A truly cruel cycle, but effective programming.

It took not much longer than a minute to pry open the metal door, but when Petra got inside neither Dib or Zim were inside. Instead, there was one door labelled "PEG This Way", and a dripping trail of blue liquid leading to it.

Meanwhile, Dib was racing through the halls of the empty lab, cradling his unconscious enemy in his arms. If he could get to a panic room, surely that freakshow couldn't muscle her way in, right? _There's not a nearby panic room, but…_ A dimly lit sign labelled "PEG Storage This Way" gave the boy a bright idea. _I should be safe in the perpetual energy generator! It's got an incredible lock on it, that's perfect!_

Soon after he began following the signs, though, he heard the quick thump of footsteps behind him. _What? How did she find me already? Oh, wait, dang it!_ He noticed, for the first time, that Zim was dripping with sedation gel and leaving a solid trail. Even when he couldn't move he ruined everything! Petra was gaining on him very quickly, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Membrane 879, area PEG-3, code 0997, procedure X-5!" he called out, and prayed that the mostly unused lab still had its safety features hooked up. Luckily, it did. Code 0997 shut off the lights, called for cameras to track whomever called out the command, and to turn the hallways in the described area into a laser maze (of course, turning off around Dib to let him run freely). When you made a command central security was called, but procedure X-5 made sure the incident was kept on the down-low. The lonely little nerd had spent his summer reading the Membrane Lab Codes and Guidelines Handbook cover to cover, so he was better versed with the codes than the guards.

Petra stopped just barely before getting burnt by the dense, blood red laser maze that now filled the hallways. She quickly lost track of her target, but he still left behind a slick, slightly translucent blue trail that was easy to follow. As she dodged the hot lasers as best she could, she heard a heavy door slam in the distance, and was even more motivated to quickly make her way around the ribbons of heat.

Now inside the safety of the dark Perpetual Energy Generator, Dib allowed himself a moment to take a deep breath. Zim was still very much sedated, and the very thick titanium alloy door was securely locked- there wasn't another way into the PEG besides that door, and eventually, Petra would have to go away, right? It wasn't a foolproof plan, but it was the best one on hand. Dib sighed in relief, and took a tired seat on the suspended walkway. After a few minutes of sitting on the platform, he heard something outside the door.

Petra, having quite aggravatedly made her way through the laser maze, finally reached the door the trail led to. _BANG! BANG! BANG!_ Petra used the full force of her body against the door, but it was to no avail. She got slightly burnt by the lasers behind her, but the door was simply too thick to be moved. "I can't believe I can't even get through this door! I'm useless!" Petra growled, her head clouded with emotions. Dib, unable to hear that comment, was unconsciously scooting away from the door, the six-inch thick metal now full of large dents.

"Petra, cool down. Breathe. You can't just rely on your strength." The lieutenant's head was spinning, and she felt as though she couldn't focus in the slightest. The primitive parts of her mind were screaming that she _needed_ to get behind that door _now_ because if she didn't, her invader would die. It was monumentally difficult to think straight when she felt like she couldn't breathe, but Petra exhaled shakily and leaned her forehead against the coolness of the door.

 _There's a better way. There's a better way. Use your brain,_ she thought. If she couldn't break through it with her strength, there was no point in using her PAK blasters. There wasn't any acid in her PAK, and her laser cutter wasn't even as strong as the lasers coming out of the walls- oh, of course.

The boy on the other side was warily watching as he noticed it went quiet, when he noticed a small amount of smoke was rising up from a pinprick of red-hot metal on the door. All he could do was watch in horror as a large circle was slowly cut out of his only safeguard. There wasn't really anywhere he could feasibly hide, seeing as the PEG was shut down permanently, so he really just had to clutch his backup pistol and get as far away from the door was he could. His hands shook as the circle was completed, and a loud creak echoed throughout the dark generator before the thick metal circle was pushed out of the door.

Bathed in only the red light of the maze, Petra's menacing glare was visible. A long claw extension protruded from her backpac- er, PAK, which was holding one of the high-powered lasers that she'd pried out of the wall, with the wire still attached. Without much ado, she ripped the laser out of the wall and snapped the wire completely, and dropped the useless nozzle onto the floor. Slowly, she extended a set of spider-like legs from her PAK, and began approaching the cowering human child. Even in the darkness, Dib could see that her hands were twitching slightly, and her razor-sharp teeth were bared and gritted.

"D-don't get any closer!" he exclaimed, aiming his weapon squarely at the alien and shooting a few shots. His aim, however, was affected more than he expected by the recoil of the gun, and he only grazed her cheek. She froze on the spot, and Dib fully realized how much she resembled an animal. Slightly burned by the maze in her rush, a plethora of rips and tears all throughout her black stealth suit. Twitching, wide-eyed, stalking forward like a big cat. But, he could only observe for a moment, because after she froze for a moment, the lieutenant flipped underneath the platform.

Dib couldn't hear Petra hanging from her PAK legs underneath the suspended walkway, moving forward nearly silently. Scared, confused, and frantic, Dib pulled a still peacefully sleeping Zim to his side and looked around wildly. _Plip_.

A small, limpid droplet of a fuchsia liquid dripped directly onto Dib's large glasses. Confused, he took them off to swipe his sleeve over the lens, and looked at the dark spot it left on the black fabric. Almost immediately a droplet landed on his cheek, and he found that it was really warm. He almost didn't want to know where it came from, but he forced himself to look up. His blood froze. Petra was towering silently above him on spindly legs, the same warm substance dripping sluggishly out of the scrape on Petra's cheek. Another warm drop of blood(?) fell onto Dib's face. "I-I'm not afraid of you! You'd better back off!" the boy stuttered, pressing the pistol to the side of Zim's head. This was a very smart move.

He watched her face morph in momentary panic, and then revert to its flat, stony appearance before she flipped back under the walkway and turned back over several feet away moments after. The legs shot back into her PAK and Petra dropped onto the platform, but didn't approach Dib. He exhaled and tightened his hold on the pistol. "If you get any closer, I'll kill him."

Carefully, Petra lowered herself to kneel on the ground and put her hands up in a surrendering gesture. "What do you want? I can get you absolutely anything." Dib fell silent.

His plan was for "Lade" to get caught by the guards on the way in and then Dib would come in with Zim and be a hero, but that didn't really work out. He needed to ask for something that would take time so he could release the camera footage to the public, but also something he wanted. Before he could answer, Petra spoke up.

"I will make you a deal."  
"...Go on."

"In exchange for you to leave my invader alone, I will give you whatever information you want about alien life. You can perform any test you want, any experiment, learn whatever you want about the empire. Just give me my invader back and leave him be." Dib watched her with a wary eye, but his heart dropped. She was no longer an animal. She was still shaking, but her eyes weren't malicious. They were pleading and panicked, her hands were clasped tightly, and her brow (without any eyebrows) was furrowed. Once again, Petra looked eerily human. Easily, he could picture her as a human girl pleading for the life of a loved one. The deal was a good one, heavily leaned in his favor. There were lots of questions the young investigator wanted to know about aliens, but could he really just give up on Zim's capture?

Petra could sense his apprehension. "Let me prove that I'm not lying," she said, and even though her movements were exaggeratedly slow Dib still jumped. She brushed her hand over the wound on her cheek, but it was so small it had already stopped bleeding. The lieutenant pulled up her sleeve and bit down hard on a spot that wasn't scarred, and Zim's human captor watched in confusion as she used the slightly darker blood to draw out a haunting symbol on the floor. The symbol almost glowed in the bright red light coming in through the broken door, and when she was done she pressed the black mark on her forehead to the center of the emblem.

At first, he didn't quite register the sound, but he soon realized that she was making a quiet clicking sound and making odd movements with her antennae. The movement made the earring in her left antennae catch the light, and Dib noticed that when she started making the noise Zim, while still asleep, perked up his own antennae. When she raised her head, she had painfully serious eyes, and blood dripping off the black mark on her head. The red light shone into the dark, echoey generator, and there was only silence. The moment was surreal.

"Literally what did you just do? Was it some type of alien magic curse?" To his surprise, Petra almost smiled.

"Of course it wouldn't make sense to you, I'm sorry," An apology? From someone the same species as Zim? Impossible. "It is… a promise, of sorts. The name doesn't really translate well into Standard- or, well English, for you. It's a wonder that the languages are almost exactly the same. This promise is only ever really used in ceremonies and very serious business nowadays, but it's still important. This symbol is the mark of my people- you said you worked with Tak's ship, right? You've probably seen something very similar to this." She gestured to the slightly smudged emblem on the floor.

In fact, he had seen something similar before. It almost looked like the insignia that was all over Tak's ship and on the flag that Zim had planted in Dib's guts so long ago, but it was much more intricate and somehow more ominous. "There are many different Irken symbols for different purposes. There's ones for the military, for the Tallest, for invaders- some even have custom emblems for themselves. This particular insignia, though, was the first. It is sacred to our culture, as is the type of promise I made you."

"Aliens like you have no concept of loyalty or sacred things. I don't believe you."

"... To an Irken, life means nothing without loyalty," the lieutenant began. "To me, you humans have no concept of loyalty. You are all divided by countries and languages, and it is _optional_ to be part of your military. When I arrived on Earth, it was insane to me that you all pledged allegiance to your country and not your leader, and that you change out your leader every four years. The empire, the Tallest; they are the epitome of Irken honor and trust, and they are everything to a soldier. Betrayal to those of your own blood is one of the greatest offenses an Irken can commit. Without our allegiance to our empire, we are nothing." Petra was silent for a moment before she continued.

"This promise has existed for as long as our kind, and rest assured I wouldn't be able to break it. To go back on my word would be to betray my nation, my ancestors, my Tallest, and my invader. It is ancient law that if I were to break my end of the deal, I would be executed. In the case that someone else were not able to, I would have to kill myself. Of course, that goes for you too, but you won't have to kill yourself. I'll be happy to do it for you." While the last part made Dib quite uncomfortable, Petra was making a compelling case. She seemed to be telling the truth, and the deal was a really good one.

"Okay, maybe you don't kill me please, but I'll take your deal. Just… don't move." Dib let Zim slump down onto the floor and backed up several feet, still pointing his gun at the unconscious alien. The second he holstered the weapon Petra leaped over the bloody emblem before her and scrambled to get to Zim. As soon as she touched his face, he stirred and opened his eyes a crack.

"Petra? Where's the ship? Where'd GIR go?" he slurred, sluggishly moving his head around to take in the dark expanse of the PEG. To Dib's surprise, a relieved, genuine smile quickly took over Petra's face as she gently pulled Zim up to a sitting position. He glanced behind her, and his eyes widened when he saw the insignia painted on floor. "Petra, you didn't…?"

"Don't worry about that, sir, I assure you that everything is okay. I'm just glad that you're safe." Her face was practically glowing in the ruby light as she attempted to pull Zim up to his feet. He leaned on her for support, but when she let go he stumbled into her like a newborn fawn, much to his own frustration.

"He's still pretty sedated, so I wouldn't expect him to be able to walk yet." Dib chimed in from a safe distance away. Petra glanced up with an annoyed look on her face, but masked it quickly after.

"Where _are_ GIR and the Voot Cruiser? I'll be needing those back, unless you want to keep GIR, that is." Dib laughed nervously to himself- he didn't want that little psychopath, and Petra knew it.

"I kind of left them at my house, sorry. If you really don't want to get caught, you can just get out the same way you got in, right?"

"Not with him I can't," Petra replied and glanced down at her invader, who was sleepily muttering something to himself as he leaned into her to stay standing. "How did you even capture him in the first place?"

"Well, I think he was trying to disable the security in my house, but I woke up for school one morning and found a particularly upset alien tangled up in a wall of wires down in the fuse room. Sedating Zim and bringing him here was just too easy," Dib boasted. "Your Voot whatever should still be parked in my backyard next to Tak's ship, if I remember correctly."

"Zim wasn't captured, it's all going according to plan…" Zim muttered, followed by a near incoherent string of clicks and movements that made Petra's face flush a deep green, almost making her freckles invisible.

"S-sir! There are children present! Use T-rated language," she whispered loudly, but an amused smile still crossed her face as she tried to hold back laughter. Her invader waved a dismissive hand.

"You're grown, Petra, don't be silly," he retorted, attempting to push away and stand on his own, only to fail and nearly collapse.

"What did he say?" Dib inquired, his fear masked by curiosity as he gingerly approached the pair.

Petra's annoyance at his approach melted into a bashful, nervous smile. "It-it doesn't really translate. It seems the sedative has removed his, um, _filter_ for lack of a better word, my apologies." she explained. "Typically an invader wouldn't use such coarse language, let alone use Old Irken." In one fell swoop, the lieutenant leaned forward and scooped her invader up, holding him so his chin rested on her shoulder and their chests faced one another.

"H-hey!" Zim protested, but Petra only patted his back below his PAK in a warm, caring manner.  
"You aren't in any shape to be walking around, sir. I'll take care of you just fine- your clothes are just _soaked_ with that blue stuff, your uniform looks practically purple. Oh, it's freezing in here, if you're all wet like that you'll catch cold," Dib watched in morbid fascination, puzzled at seeing this normally menacing force spoil Zim with an almost motherly affection. Yet another uncomfortable example of this mysterious entity's humanity.

"I have a plan, but you're going to have to coordinate, Dib."

"Why on Earth would I coordinate with you?" He almost laughed at the notion.

"Because if you don't, my invader will get caught, and it will be directly your fault. If you bring harm to him, you will be violating our contract- and you do understand that there are consequences for such an action, correct?" Petra cocked an antennae, and shot the human a toothy grin.

"Y-yeah, okay. What do you need me to do?"

"Glad you've come around. Turning off the maze out there would be lovely start, if you don't mind," she suggested, and Dib readily complied. The lights outside came back on, and the strange trio left the Perpetual Energy Generator and began the walk back to the control room where they had started. "By the way, I'm going to need you to delete any camera footage of me or my invader out of disguise, since that would also bring harm. The pink eye excuse will only save him so many times, and it won't really work out for me." She let out a dry laugh and looked at him with her big muted purple eyes.

 _Well there goes my backup plan- wait, was that a joke?_ Dib thought, before replying, "Yeah, fine. What's your plan anyway?"

"You'll see- it's better that you go into it blind, I've seen your acting," she said, referring to the lies about Zim's location from earlier. "In any case, I need to make some quick adjustments before we can do anything."

Once they made it back to the control room, Petra gently set Zim down on the floor, and pulled what appeared to be a spare black shirt and a washcloth out of the depths of her PAK. "How do you manage to fit all that stuff in there?" Dib asked.

"It's bigger than you'd think." she answered simply, pulling off one of Zim's boots, which poured out the electric blue sedation jelly. "It really is everywhere, isn't it?"

"Z-Zim can do that by himself," the invader protested, and Petra simply sat back and waited. _Wait, is he gonna get naked? I'm not sure if I'm okay with seeing that,_ Dib thought to himself.

Zim managed to clumsily pull off the other boot and both gloves, but struggled to undo his uniform for a good minute before huffing, "Petra, I command you to help me. Dib-filth replaced the clasps on my uniform with something else,"

"No, sir, it's all the same," she reminded him, making quick work of the clothing, lightly pulling up the PAK to undo the clasps there. "Sir, you don't have to take off your pants, you replaced them with the ones that keep foreign substances out, remember?"

"N-No, I've gotta-" Zim awkwardly tried to pull down his black leggings with one hand and push the lieutenant away with the other, but a frustrated expression crossed her face as she grabbed both of his hands and pulled them up with ease.

"Sir, what I'm trying to say is that I didn't bring any spare pants, so _please_ keep those ones on." Dib almost laughed at the scene before him, watching in a kind of befuddled amusement as Petra wrestled with Zim as one would with a particularly decisive toddler. It was almost comical to see his worst enemy brought down to the level of an infant and arguably Earth's biggest threat demoted to the caretaker. Well, she would be Earth's biggest threat if Gaz didn't exist.

After a few minutes, Petra had not only convinced Zim that he should, in fact, keep his pants on, but also to let her clean up residual gel and dress him in the spare t-shirt she had. That was all at the cost of letting him squish her face around and laugh maniacally at the expressions he made. Now, she knelt behind him and connected their PAKs with some cables. "Sir, I'm just going to update your PAK- no, don't go into a sleep cycle, please, you were just sedated for two days- aaaand he's asleep." Petra let out an indignant huff and laid her sleeping invader down on his side with his head in her lap.

"Is he normally like this at home?" Dib joked, leaning on a console below a large monitor. Petra have rolled her eyes (it was hard to tell when she didn't have pupils), and shook her head.

"What exactly did you use on him?"

Dib wracked his brain for the name of the gel. "I don't really remember, it's just a standard sedation gel. I didn't really expect it to work on Zim, but-"

"Wait, that was a blue gel, right?" Petra asked, glancing down at the cyan-stained cloth and once magenta uniform. "Would it happen to contain phthalocyanine?"

"Let me go check," Dib ran back to the clear vat that Zim was suspended in before and read the safety label on the side. There were a lot of components with super long, complicated names, but indeed among them was phthalocyanine. When he returned with the news, Petra seemed less than pleased. "What's wrong with this phthalocyanine junk? Is it gonna kill him?" he asked, unable to mask his excitement.

"No, if he woke up then that means he'll be fine. I happened to come across the Earth use of this substance in my research. It seems that to you humans, the worst it can do to you is stain your skin, but to Irkens it's a whole other matter." _She's right about the staining thing_ , Dib thought. They had to discontinue that particular gel brand because those suspended in it would come out blue if they spent too long inside. "As you can see, he didn't get stained blue- that's because he was absorbing the phthalocyanine the whole time he was in it. In small doses, it really will only make you a little sleepy, but in the dosage my invader has right now can cause impaired motor skills, nausea, blackouts, or on occasion impaired memory. Luckily it seems that his PAK collected the excess so he wouldn't die," she noted, as at this angle a vibrant cobalt liquid was dripping out of Zim's PAK and staining the floor.

"So it's kind of like alcohol, then? Didn't think that aliens would be big drinkers." Dib quipped.

"We're really not. Most don't have the time, and those who do have leisure time are so high up that they can't afford to become inebriated and make a dumb decision, lest that mistake lead to their death. I suppose that the only ones who regularly drink would be foot soldiers. They have lots of spare time between training and making attacks." Dib had almost forgotten that she'd promised to give him any and all information about her empire, and they certainly had time to wait as she updated Zim or whatever.

"Do you like, snort it or something? How are you supposed to dye things? Why don't your higher ups care that all your foot soldiers are drunk?" he asked excitedly.

"Slow down, Dib, that's a lot of questions," Petra said, with a bothered expression. "Usually they come in the form of drinks- the darker blue they are, the stronger. There's plenty of other ways to dye things blue when you have the whole universe at your disposal, and… well, I don't think anyone at all has the heart to tell the soldiers not to. After what they face every day, a little drink to make things fun doesn't seem all that bad."

"What's that supposed to mean, were you a soldier or something?" Dib watched Petra become quiet for a brief moment.  
"Every Irken is a soldier, in a sense, but no, I was never a ground soldier. They make up most of our population, as they die the quickest. Many of the more complicated maneuvers are performed by the Irken Elite, but when the best solution is to overwhelm the enemy with numbers (which it often is), the foot soldiers come in. Many of them die in a matter of months, while those who survive long enough to command younger soldiers don't live long enough to escape their role on the battlefield. It is truly a miserable existence; too competent to be a service drone, yet not enough to live longer than a few years."

Dib understood fully that Irken society is a ruthless one, but still the comment phased him. It wasn't right to have your own kind dropping like flies, but then again, it seemed that ethics wasn't a hot topic issue on their planet. "So what are you?"

"I'm a lieutenant- the mark on my forehead denotes that. I am specially designed to cater to the needs and whims of an invader, in both height and personality. Lieutenants are sent to protect, care for, and support the invaders that conquer their respective planets."

"That doesn't make any sense. Zim is nowhere near conquering Earth, and you're a bit taller than him. And your personality- well, actually, you seem pretty patient, which is a virtue when you're stuck with Zim." Dib countered.

"Ah, well, there was an…" Petra grimaced. " _Accident_ while I was being transported. I was intended for an invader that was much more in terms of height and accomplishments, but I was sent here. It's a bit of a long story."

"Sounds like." Dib replied, when suddenly Petra perked up.

"It appears that he's done updating, but I guess I'll have to manually do this since he decided now was the time for a nap," she groaned, but pushed Zim up to a sitting position and placed both hands on his PAK. Petra closed her eyes and furrowed her brow, seemingly concentrating pretty hard. Quietly, the PAK started to whir and suddenly, Zim's sleeping body transformed. Within seconds, he had turned into a giant, fluffy, purple teddy bear. "Before you ask, I just updated his PAK to be able to form a holo disguise like the one I use every day. It appears that he stopped receiving automatic updates when he arrived on Earth."

"Okay, I'm glad that Zim is now a stuffed animal, but what exactly does this have to do with your plan?" Petra smiled, rose up, and donned her Gaz disguise once again.

"Just follow my lead."

* * *

Scientists and guards alike watched in horror as the miniature she-devil returned from the abandoned lab to roam the halls with her idiot brother in tow. Strangely enough, she was clutching a giant purple bear to her chest- perhaps it was used in a bargain for the large headed boy's life?

On the way, though, the siblings were stopped by their father. "Leaving so soon, honey?"

"Yeah, Dib said he left my Game Slave in his bedroom and locked the door before he left, so he's coming back to the house to let me in. Isn't that right?" The violet-headed menace yanked sharply on her brother's ear, and he timidly smiled.

"Well I'm just so happy my darling Gaz and, um… I'm happy that my both of my children are getting along," the professor glowed. He reached down to pat the large purple bear that sat in his daughter's arm. She bristled, and Professor Membrane quickly retracted his arm from the toy. "This is just adorable, where did you get the bear?"

Petra quickly wracked her mind to think of a perfectly natural (human) reason she would have acquired a stuffed bear, and cocked her head slightly before replying, "It was a gift."

"From your brother?"

"He was just the messenger. Gotta go, Dad, I wanna play Vampire Piggy Hunter. C'mon Dib, let's go home." Without any further comment, the girl simply began walking off, dragging her dark-haired brother with her.

The Professor was frozen on the spot yet again. Someone had given Gaz a gift? What if it was from an _admirer?_ Not only was his only daughter going through puberty, some scumbag had dared to send her a gift! _Cool down Membrane, it could just be from someone who ticked her off and want to stay in one piece. There's plenty of reasons…_ Even though he could think of a hundred reasons that someone would gift his daughter a cute bear, none managed to subdue the panic of the realization that Gaz was growing up.

Meanwhile, Petra and Dib had just barely left the building and pushed through the crowd of eager fans outside the lab. "I seriously can't believe that worked." Dib admitted.

"You humans really will believe anything," Petra shook her head. The walk back to Dib's house was quiet, for the most part, which surprised even the chatterbox himself. While he had a million questions to ask, some part of him said that he shouldn't ask them at that moment. So a comfortable silence covered the trio like a blanket all the way to the Membrane house.

Once they arrived, they found the Voot Cruiser right in the spot that Dib had said, with GIR sitting inside. "GIR, why didn't you come get me?" Petra inquired, opening the hatch to the ship.

"I was watching the Scary Monkey Show Marathon!" he exclaimed, pointing ahead of him. Sure enough, you could see through the chain link fence into the open window of a neighbor's house that the show was playing on a particularly large screen. In front of the TV was a greasy man who definitely looked like he hadn't moved in two days, watching the program with glazed eyes. A tired sigh escaped Petra's mouth as she moved carefully into the ship and sat Zim down in her lap.

"Sir, turn off your disguise, I can't see." When he inevitably didn't reply, she let out a huff and switched their positions. "I hate driving the Voot Cruiser. I ought to order a Spittle Runner or something, this tiny little outdated ship is gonna drive me nuts one of these days." she muttered to herself before turning to the human who was still standing next to the ship in question.

"Well, it's gotten dark now, so I'm gonna head off." Dib was still processing how weird it looked to see his sister sitting on a giant teddy bear in the seat of an alien spacecraft, with GIR giggling blithely next to her. "Thank you for your assistance- don't forget to delete that footage. Here, take this." Petra pulled a scrap piece of paper out of a compartment in the Cruiser and scribbled down something on it. When Dib read it, it turned out to be a phone number and an email, written in neat lettering. "Just contact me when you'd like me to come in for testing or questioning- not tomorrow, though. I've got someone to take care of." She jabbed a thumb at the teddy bear she was currently seated on.

"Yeah, right. Bye." He stuffed the paper in his pocket and backed up, and shortly after Petra closed the hatch she took off and flew into the distance. When he returned inside, he found Gaz sitting on the couch playing an FPS on the Super Nantendo. Just as he settled on the couch at a safe distance, their father burst through the front door.  
"Gaz!" he exclaimed, and she preemptively paused her game before he picked her up and watched her with a worried expression. She seemed to weigh the same amount as normal, and be the right height this time.

"What is it, Dad?" Her voice was back to normal, as well! Dib got up and walked behind them to shut the front door.

"Gaz, who gave you that bear?" Dib froze at the door and spun around to face his sister's befuddled face.

"What bear?"

"The purple one you were in the lab with earlier, who gave it to you?" Gaz's face of confusion turned to a glare as she tilted her head to look squarely at her brother's guilty face.

"Hmm, I can't quite remember…" she said, and Dib quickly pulled twenty dollars out of his pocket. She shook her head slightly, and he made it thirty. "Let me think…" she trailed off, looking upwards before returning her gaze to her brother, who was now holding fifty dollars. "Oh, that's right, the bear. I thought it was ugly so I gave it to that girl across the street who won't leave me alone."

"Okay, but you said your brother delivered it to you and not who actually gave it to you, _so who did you get it from?_ "

"Don't worry Dad, it was a gift from Tía Elizabeth. She had it delivered to the Skool and Dib picked it up for me so I could return a game to this kid in my class." The professor let his head hang down and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. When he spoke again, his voice regained that strong, radio-esque quality that had been clouded with panic before.

"Be sure to write your aunt a thank you note, honey, even if it was ugly. I'm going to order Bloaty's tonight, alright?" He patted the young girl's head and set her back down before happily making his way into the kitchen. Dib gingerly come forward and handed Gaz the money.

"Thanks for covering, Gaz. I was just-" The girl held up a silencing hand.

"I don't wanna hear it, Dib. Let me play my game." She put the money away in a black cat wallet, and returned to her gaming session. Dib, slightly annoyed but mostly relieved, turned around and began to go up to his room. After all, he had a lot of footage to delete.

(A/N: I know I'm late delivering this chapter, but I hope it was worth waiting for. In other news, since school begins this Friday for me, I've decided to move my upload date to Sundays. Hopefully, I'll be uploading this Sunday, and much earlier in the evening than I am today, but forgive me if it's a non-canon for funsies chapter and not my usual hard-hitting brand of incomprehensible garbage. Also, I just realized this chapter was approaching 8,000 words and my first response was "yikes, this will not be readable"- I hope that's good enough, lol. As always, thank you so much for reading and please consider leaving a review so I can improve.)


	10. The Wizarding World of Invader Zim

(A/N: This is obviously non-canon, but I got to thinking about this and it made me laugh, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.)

George Lewis owned a mom-and-pop shop on Main Street, in which he mostly sold wands. The majority of wands are sold this way, with very few wands being mass manufactured for the reason that the more care and energy is put into a wand, the better it will work. It was for this reason that the Lewis Magical Market sold the best wands in the area. Mr. Lewis was known for the immense care he put into hand making every wand, and only ever purchasing the highest quality artisan wands for resale (which he hardly ever did). This fact combined with his kind, fatherly aura and immense knowledge of sorcery made his shop ideal for providing magical paraphernalia to the nearby Skool of Majiks. So it was no surprise that a dark-haired boy with a large head burst into his shop one foggy Tuesday evening, with a strange green child in tow.

"Why hello Dib, how nice of you to visit me!" Mr. Lewis exclaimed, unphased by the child's obviously distressed demeanor. "Have you found any aliens or Bigfeets yet?"

"Yes, actually, Bigfeets was in my garage- but that's not what I'm here for! I have a problem," Dib said, gesturing to the child beside him. "You know how when you enter seventh grade you're supposed to stop using your class wand and get outfitted with a better one?"

"Of course I remember, I sell many wands to your school this time of year. Do you need help with fitting this boy with magical items? I didn't expect that of you," Mr. Lewis admitted. It was a tad surprising seeing as Dib's father, Grand Magister Membrane, was head of the Council of Archmages- Dib assisted in the yearly fittings of wands to students because he was naturally proficient in seeing auras and other magical tasks.

"This kid can't even _hold_ a real wand, let alone be fitted with a broom. He couldn't cast anything using the metal class wands before and I can't see his aura _at all_ , but now every time I give him a wooden one he-" Dib was clearly very frustrated.

"Now, now, Dib, that's no reason to be upset. What's your name?" Mr. Lewis asked the green child.

"I am Zim," he replied, clearly miffed from being ignored since he arrived in the shop. It was strange that the boy was quite small, even for his age, and his lack of a nose, ears, or naturally-pigmented skin weren't helping. Somehow, though, the appearance was familiar.

"Zim transferred into the Skool when we were in fifth grade. Everybody thinks that he's some type of cave gremlin 'cause he can't cast a spell to save his life. I know it's just 'cause he's an alien, though, and I promise he's just as ugly out of his disguise as he is in it," Dib snickered, and Zim could only respond with great offense and protest.

" _ZIM IS A HUMAN!_ Zim is a normal looking filthy worm-baby just like the rest of our class. I just have a skin condition."

"Dib! Use kind words," Mr. Lewis scolded, glaring at the boy. He visibly shrank down and muttered out an apology. "In any case, Zim, I'd be happy to help you find a wand. Some hands don't have an easy time projecting magic through metal, and it just takes the right type of wood to make things work! So how about you do me a favor and hold this?" The man reached under the shop counter and brought out a long, light colored wand with a large glass sphere on the bottom. Just from looking, Dib could tell it was roughly fifteen inches in length and made of golden oak, most likely a glass core- obviously a wand intended for fitting.

"This little sphere on the bottom will change when you hold it, just like this," In the time that Mr. Lewis had held the wand the sphere had turned a soft, warm red and it appeared that there was a warm fire crackling inside of it. "This will tell me everything I need to know about what kind of wand you need."  
"Mr. Lewis, I already tried using a fitting wand, but-" The shopkeeper cut the boy off with a paternal glare and gently handed Zim the wand.

Nothing really happened at first, but just as soon as a the first inkling of a color appeared in the sphere, it filled with blinding white light and- _CRACK!_

When the smoke had cleared, Mr. Lewis saw the unbelievable. Just by holding the wand, Zim had caused it to burst. The wand itself was scorched, and the glass sphere had shattered. Dib would have been able to see if the green boy had done it on purpose by watching the flow of energy through his aura, but the pair wouldn't have come to the shop if Zim was just messing around. Dib, having seen this before, made violent "see what I mean" gestures and crossed his arms.

"I tried every type of wood and core with this kid, I'm serious. Mahogany, rosewood, pine, fir- kaboom. Pegasus feather, unicorn hair, mermaid bone, I even tried harpy talon, and- kablam! Kablooey! I can't figure it out, and I can't see his aura even if I tried." Dib cried in frustration, and Zim just shrugged.

"This is just another example of how special and powerful the all-mighty ZIM is." Dib reacted by rolling his eyes, much to the offense of the green boy.

What on Earth did this mean? It was possible that Zim was a species of gremlin, seeing as his teeth were oddly shaped, but most green gremlin species had ears and protruding noses. Perhaps he was mixed with something. Orc? No, too small and too few fingers. Nymph? You don't see those out in public too often. _Wait a minute- no ears, no nose, green skin, weird teeth, small…_

"Have you ever been sitting in class or at home and random things explode, catch fire, or begin to levitate?"

"Yeah, that happens it class a lot, but it only really started happening when Zim joined our class. It's obviously a plot to kill all humans. I'm not really sure how yet, but that's definitely what it is," Dib accused, knowingly nodding to himself. To his surprise, though, Mr. Lewis began to laugh out loud. Was Zim being an alien funny or something?

"I thought I'd only see one person like this in my whole life, but here you are! How exciting! Here, I know exactly what you need, son." Mr. Lewis smiled brightly and turned behind him to face the shelves of wand boxes and potion bottles. "Petra, I have a very _special_ customer I'd like you to meet!"

A series of light, quick footsteps sounded from behind the large, rounded door leading to the part of the shop where Mr. Lewis lived. Dib didn't know a Petra, and assumed that Mrs. Lewis would come out of the shop, but to his surprise he didn't recognize the girl who opened the door.

Oddly, she wore a white lace glove on her left hand, embroidered with some kind of iridescent thread. She also had on the uniform for a nearby witches-only academy, clad with a wide-brim pointed hat, and a dark cloak with the school's crest on the front.

"This is my daughter, Petra. I have to stay out here and serve customers, but if you'll go back with her I think she'll know exactly what you need. Dib, go on along with them, I'll tell your father that you'll be here for dinner," Mr. Lewis insisted, opening the small gate to allow the boys to walk behind the counter. Petra looked nothing like Mr. Lewis- while they both had freckles, the man had flaming red hair, brown eyes, and an impressive stature, as did his wife. However, this girl had soft strawberry-blonde hair, periwinkle eyes, and was only just taller than Zim, despite wearing the attire for a seventh-year student. Dib had known Mr. Lewis since he was a young child, and would very much remember if he had a daughter. Just who was this girl?  
Without a word, Petra led the boys through the door and into the living room. Dib knew this place very well. He and his sister stayed here very often as children when their father was out on council business, and it was a place of warmth and comfort. There was a crackling fire to rid the room of the early winter chill, and many warmly colored tapestries and carpets all about the room. The boys sat on the large couch, while Petra took a seat in an oversized armchair that only made her look smaller.

"It's quite cold outside tonight, isn't it? Would you like any tea or anything before we begin?" Despite how ominous that sounded, Dib nodded. The cold fog had seeped through his school cloak and into his bones, and even next to the fire he was cold. On the chair next to her was a silver tray that had a few white china tea cups and a matching teapot, decorated with flowers that swayed in the breeze. The dark-haired child knew the enchantment that caused painted pictures to move well, as Mr. Lewis had actually taught it to him.

Petra picked up the teapot, and slowly steam began to pour out of the spout, and she filled one of the teacups with it before putting two lumps of sugar and a large amount of milk in it. Still silent, she handed the cup to Dib.

"I don't like sugar in my tea," he said suspiciously.  
"Yes, you do," she replied, not even sparing him a glance. Well, he did like sugar in his tea. He liked two lumps and lots of milk, although he wasn't exactly sure how she knew that. "Dad said you were an expert on reading auras, I thought you would appreciate if I just read you instead of bothering asking."

"You can tell how I like my tea just by reading my aura? How?" Dib asked incredulously, and Petra almost seemed surprised. Her expression quickly turned to a sheepish smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. You're a…" she trailed off before waving her hand dismissively and once again grabbing the teapot. Instead of pouring more cups, though, she held it until it stopped steaming. Strangely enough, she continued to hold it until new steam emerged from the spout, and when she poured it into two more cups the liquid was an opaque baby pink. She proceeded to smother both cups with sugar and offered one up to Zim.

"I don't like tea," Zim said, seeming nervous.  
"I know, it isn't tea like they have it here. You'll know it when you drink it," she explained vaguely, and Zim hesitantly took it. His apprehension melted away, though, when he took a sip, and he began drinking it quite quickly. "Slow down, it's still hot!" Petra exclaimed when he cried out in pain and nearly dropped his cup.

"Not to be rude, but I've known Mr. and Mrs. Lewis nearly my whole life and they've never had a child. Who exactly are you?" Dib interjected, setting his tea to the side.

"Ah, of course, I nearly didn't introduce myself. My name is Petra, and I began living here a few months ago. Papa was kind enough to offer me shelter when he saw me walking by myself during a horrible storm, and when he discovered I didn't have a home he almost immediately offered to adopt me. It was outstandingly kind, however odd," Petra said with a chuckle. "I have heard a lot about you and your sister, Dib. I would have liked to meet you earlier, and under different circumstances, but I am still happy to have finally met you." When she smiled, it was almost as warm as Mr. Lewis', but she had a set of very sharp teeth that slightly unnerved the boys.

"Anyways, we should really get to the task at hand. I think I already know what's going on with your friend," she said, watching Zim much more carefully suck down his weird tea, "But I'd appreciate it if you'd explain it in detail."

So, Dib explained the whole situation, with surprisingly few interjections from Zim. He seemed to have gone quiet since they entered the shop, for whatever reason.

"I see the issue clearly. Here, let me illustrate something for you." Petra walked over to a chest in the corner of the room. She very carefully pulled out a plain looking wand with her gloved hand and sat back down. "As you already know, a wand looks like this. However, a wand is any object that is capable of being an outlet for magical energy. We use wands like these because they are the most efficient way to release magical energy. Have you ever had a time where you went on break or lazed around for a few days, and when you picked up any type of wand a spell would be cast or the tip would catch fire even though you didn't mean to?" Hesitantly, Dib nodded, but Zim didn't respond.

"That's because without an outlet, most people can't release magical energy. Some people can perform magic without a wand, but you must have an immense magical energy to do that, which most people don't. Sometimes, if you let it build up enough, things with begin to levitate or even burst. Or, if you've never released magical energy before, it can do..." Petra switched the wand from her gloved hand to her bare hand, and almost as soon as she had a grip on the wand, it exploded in the same manner as it did with Zim.

"...that. Don't worry, it was a cheap wand anyways," she assured. "You can only release magical energy if you're in an environment that will support that, and Earth is pretty much the only place where everything you make naturally supports magic. A desk made on Mars won't levitate if you cast a spell on it, but a desk on Earth will. Of course, if your species doesn't use magic, you wouldn't be able to feel energy buildups like humans can," Petra took a sip from her tea. "So when an alien tries to use magical outlets on Earth, in my experience they just explode because of all the energy that's trying to escape at once."

Dib almost dropped his cup, and Zim spat the still steaming tea into his lap. The large-headed boy burst into a huge smile. "Wait, you think he's an alien too? This is amazing, no one ever believes me-"

" _ZIM IS A FILTHY WORM-BABY, HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE-_ "

"Oh, would you two calm down? To my knowledge there's only ever been three aliens who even touched the face of the Earth and they're all Irkens, only two of which show this enormous power. Because of this I assume that Irkens are naturally born with this magical energy that humans have so little of comparatively." The boy's jaws dropped. Who told her about Irkens? What? _What?_

"Zim is a human! I have a skin condition!" The alien jumped out of his seat, and miraculously, in his hurry, he managed to knock something out of his eye. He stood there, fuming and apparently unaware of his blunder, for a solid thirty seconds before glancing down to the floor to spot a very familiar blue contact. Petra, unphased, looked directly into his eyes and waited. "ZIM HAS PINK EYE!"

"...You're going to rinse that before you put it back in, right?"

"What do you mean?"

Petra muttered something that sounded something like _Tallest, that's disgusting_ and pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "Look let's do this the easy way and then we can get down to business." Without any further ado, she pulled off the lace glove and tucked it into a pocket before extending her arms in a "tada" motion and suddenly transformed into a still freckled Irken with an antennae piercing.

Zim was excited to say the least, but Dib was disgusted. "Does Mr. Lewis know an evil alien has infiltrated his home?!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, why do you think he wanted me to help you?" Dib couldn't reply, as he was shocked that someone who helped raise him actually knowingly _housed_ an alien. "Anyways, I'll get you fitted with one of these gloves, a broom and other school supplies, and of course a wand."

With a flick of her hand, the contact floated up from the ground and some water materialized and washed it before popping out of existence again. She proceeded to float the contact over into Zim's hand. "Come on, let's go into the workshop." Petra didn't wait for the boys as she walked off, and Zim zipped after her as quick as he could.

"H-how did you do that without a wand?" Zim asked excitedly, slowing down to walk next to Petra.

"It takes quite a bit of training, but it's easy once you get used to it! And," she said, patting his arm. "You'll be able to do it too, I promise." They reached the workshop quickly and she opened the door to reveal a large two story room, whose walls were covered in shelves full of potions, hanging herbs and ingredients, cauldrons, wand boxes, and books. In the center of the room, though, was a giant glass sphere that was halfway in the ground. It was quite a sight to behold, and Dib knew the room well.

"It'll take a while to make another glove like mine, but it'll let you touch magical items without making them burst. Here, come and touch this," she said, pointing to the sphere. "It's like the wand from earlier, but much more capable of containing your power." Zim eagerly put his palm against the cool glass of the sphere, and it quickly filled with a dark purple shade and a violent white hot flame.

The defective Irken burst into a positively exuberant grin and watched Petra with huge, waiting eyes. Suddenly, a number of items shot out of their compartments and stood waiting around her. She was knocked out of thought, and seemed annoyed. "No, no, send those wands back! You know all of those will just burn." The boxes sheepishly returned to their compartments.

One of the items was a pair of glasses with pink crystal lenses, and even as all the other items returned those stayed. Petra looked at them curiously, before waving in Dib's direction. "You can't see our auras, right? Here, these should help." The boy gingerly plucked the glasses out of the air, and replaced his pair with the new ones. It was insane.

The aura he had struggled so hard to see was now apparent in full form. The air around the two aliens shimmered and writhed with pure magic, the flow of it dipping in and out of the hosts. He was shocked to see that even though he was several feet away, the two's auras were reaching out and touching his own. It wasn't that Irkens weren't magical- their auras were just too powerful to see with the naked eye!

"I think I know what you need," Petra said to Zim, watching Dib shakily take off the lenses out of her peripheral vision. She raced over to the small section of the wall where the wand boxes were huge and pulled one off the shelf. When she returned, she opened it and faced the contents toward the boys. "Let's try this one."

It was a magnificent staff, about two feet in length and such a dark purple it was nearly black. It tapered to a dull point at the end, and just above the grip it was embedded with a number of stones. Dib could tell it was heavy duty indeed, seeing as it wasn't wooden at all, but he had never been so close to such a thing. "It's a hellhound bone staff, with a valkyrie hair core. These little stones are tanzanite. It should be a nice fit, but when you pick it up, _please_ aim it away from the walls. There's glass."

Zim quickly picked up the staff, and to the human's shock it didn't explode even after he held it for more than thirty seconds. When he put the glasses back on to see, he could tell that the wand was actually casting its own weak aura that forced the magical energy Zim exuded around it and back into his own body. "Here," Petra said, taking Zim's other hand and placing it on the grip of the staff. "Now just exhale gently, and…"

Slowly, a rainbow of purples poured out of the staff's tip and began spreading through the air, forming clouds near the ceiling, rushing faster and faster as the seconds passed.  
Dib pulled off the crystal lenses and found that the mist was actually _magic_ \- as in Zim was performing magic! "Woah…"

Even Petra couldn't help but smile as the colors swirled about and formed a lion cub that jumped and played around in midair. "Zim has done it! He is a better sorcerer than any pathetic human!" he exclaimed, cackling in sheer evil delight. The mist sputtered a few times, and then ceased. "Aw."

"Don't worry, that's just the wand pulling excess energy out. That'll happen from time to time. Now we just have to get you some school supplies and then you'll be good to go."

"Hey, when I get one of those glove-thingies, does it have to be that delicate stuff? I think that it should be gauntlet. The almighty sorcerer ZIM should have something cool, don't you agree?"

"Maybe not a gauntlet, but I'll see what I can do."

Soon enough, everything Zim needed was collected into a large bag and Petra promised the glove would be done in a few days. Just as Dib was about to drag Zim back to the Skool, the girl (now re-disguised) stopped them at the door. "If you'd like, I can help train you so that you can use your power to its full potential." Zim quite eagerly agreed, and Dib said he'd come to ensure that Zim wasn't up to anything nefarious in nature. So, with a plan and many supplies, the pair went on their way into the foggy evening.

"Petra, was Zim that alien that you were supposed to work for when you came to Earth? Shouldn't you have told him?" Mr. Lewis asked, wiping the counter idly with a dry cloth. In return his adoptive daughter sighed.  
"No, it's not him. My invader was on another planet, but…"

"But?"

"I don't think I want to leave."

"I'm very glad about that." Both of them turned towards the door as they heard Mrs. Lewis ring the dinner bell. "Let's go, I think your mother made meatloaf." Petra groaned.

"It's cool that you found an enchantment that makes it digestable for me, but I wouldn't be able to stomach that stuff even if I was human." Despite himself, Mr. Lewis chuckled.

"Be nice, be nice," he said, ushering his child behind the counter. "We eat it because we love your mother, not because we love the meatloaf." Both of them had a good laugh at that before they heard the dinner bell being rung louder and much more insistently. With very few further protests, Petra followed her father into the warmth of the house, the candles that lit up the shop being blown out as soon as the door shut. Even though the winter chill snuck into the shop that night, no one inside could feel it as they ate together, as a family.

(A/N: Two author's notes? In a chapter? I must be insane. Anyways, I wanted to leave a few extra details I couldn't work in without writing a whole new story here because I think they're interesting.

The reason Dib and Zim came during the night instead of the afternoon was because Zim was the very last one to be fitted as punishment for his incessant bad behavior. Gaz, like her brother, is a proficient magic user and is gifted in seeing auras, but she doesn't have to help with fitting wands because she scares the children. Gaz is still required to use the class wand at Skool, but her personal wand is roughly 14 inches, purpleheart, with a harpy talon core. The image that appears when she holds the fitting wand is a swarm of pitch black clouds, and her favorite type of magic is curses and hexes. She won't admit it, but she's horrible at garden and green magic, unless there's thorns and nettles involved.

Dib's wand is 16 inches, dark cypress, with a mermaid fin core. His favorite type of magic to perform is storm magic, and he's really bad with transfiguration and apparition magic because of his stubborn personality. The image that appears when he holds the training wand is a stormy dark green ocean.

Petra has to use a staff, like Zim, and it's quite large. It's about three and half feet in length, and it's made of a whole unicorn horn encased in water nymph clay and imbedded with a large labradorite on the top. The core isn't unicorn hair, though, it's actually a strand of water nymph silk. The image that appears when she touches the sphere in the workshop is a white, almost iridescent swirl of liquid that spreads like ink through water, and tiny white fish dart around inside. She's great at many spells, as she'll practice until she's the best, but has great trouble with spells and potions that change emotions (ie. love potions).

I hope this divergence from normalcy was fun to read, albeit a bit long because of how much I love this idea. I promise next week we'll return to our regularly scheduled program, now on Sunday evenings. Don't forget to leave a review, and as always thank you for reading.)


	11. Eyes for the Worthy

Petra really did hate driving the Voot Cruiser. It really only had space for one, and a little extra space for GIR, but it also was wildly outdated. She learned to drive on a five-seat Spittle Runner, which was significantly more modern and much bigger. In fact, Tak's old ship was a souped-up standard Spittle Runner, so presumably even Dib might have a preference over Zim's hunk of junk ship. But, Zim managed to keep the Cruiser in surprisingly good condition, so the flight home wasn't terrible, at least.

After they landed safely at the base, Petra heaved her invader up and transported him down to his personal quarters where she laid him on his rest bay and hooked him up to the built-in monitoring system. Once she plugged him in, his disguise dropped and a screen emerged from the wall and reported his condition.

"Yeah, yeah, I don't need you to tell me he's wasted, I can see that," she muttered, switching the screen to monitor Zim's brain activity. There was a lot of cleaning up to do after Zim's absence- both figuratively and literally. There was the matter of forging a doctor's note and making a few excuses, but that paled in comparison to the literal cleaning up to do.

Zim's personal quarters were an absolute shipwreck. There was being a bit untidy, and then there was living in a giant flesh-eating demon squid nest. There were tall piles of stuff in the corners, the floor was dirty and scuffed, and the only clean part of the room was the area near Zim's rest bay. It was so messy it almost seemed uninhabitable to the tidy lieutenant. Most Irkens were clean, organized creatures. If they weren't, living in such close proximity to others would be intolerable. Of course, there were messy Irkens. Foot soldiers and the odd student would often have trouble cleaning up after themselves. But this… Petra had never met someone who was _this_ messy. Although, to be fair, Zim wasn't like most Irkens.

 _This won't do at all,_ she thought. _What kind of lieutenant would I be if I allowed my invader to recover in a place like this?_ With that thought in her mind, Petra set out to clean Zim's quarters from top to bottom. Part of her worried that digging through her invader's possessions without permission would upset him, but the logical part of her knew it would be a lot easier than if she did it while he was awake. Maybe she could get away with it if she claimed he did it when he was blacked out.

* * *

"Urgh," a familiar voice groaned. Petra turned around to face a very confused looking invader. "I think I'm dying- Dib must have given me some horrible parasite!" He sat up and looked around him.

"It's not a parasite, sir. Just a hangover," Petra said, walking across the now clean floor to sit on the edge of Zim's rest bay.

"What?!" he exclaimed, before wincing at the loud noise he had made.

"You probably shouldn't exert yourself, you hit the phthalo _pretty_ hard," she warned in a warm, quiet voice. "I'm guessing you probably have a killer headache, huh?"

"A respectable invader such as ZIM wouldn't drink himself into oblivion. You must be mistaken," he denied, lowering his usual perpetual yell down to a stage whisper. "It must be a parasite."

"Well, you weren't drinking, but you soaked up a lot of phthalocyanine anyhow. I'll tell you the story later. How are you feeling, sir?" Petra asked. Zim opened his mouth to reply, but instead of giving a verbal reply he retched a large amount of cyan colored liquid onto himself. His face darkened and he glanced up at the lieutenant the same way a child who thinks they're in trouble does. "Fair enough. You needed a gel bath anyways."

"I can do that by myself," he snapped with a dark green flush on his face. Before Petra could stop him, the invader unplugged himself, scooted to the edge of the bed, pushed himself up and… promptly fell flat on his face.

"Sir, when I said you ingested a lot of phthalo, I meant you basically soaked in it for two days," Petra explained, kneeling next to the fallen Irken. "Here, let me help you."

"Don't you dare- agh!" Zim exclaimed as Petra scooped him up bridal-style. "How dare you treat the almighty ZIM like a smeet!"

"It's not infantilization, sir, this is my job. I'm here to take care of you, right?" Petra soothed as she began her walk to the bathroom. Zim didn't reply, but his antennae were pulled back in annoyance and embarrassment. "You're still slightly intoxicated, I think-"

"Why do you talk like that?" Zim asked in an annoyed voice, and Petra paused in the doorway to the bathroom.

"...Like what, sir?"

"Like _that._ You go from informal to formal so quickly, it's obnoxious. One minute you use phrases like 'hit the phthalo' and then you use words like 'infantilization'. Do you think you're better than me or something?" the invader accused.

"How did you…? Of course I don't think I'm better than you, sir." Petra sighed and set the invader down on the cool white tile of his bathroom. She turned to a small panel on the wall and drew up an antibacterial gel bath- with extra fragrance. The little defective reeked of vomit now. "I suppose I'm just not used to being in work mode all the time."

"What's that supposed to mean? Has my parasite began eating your brain?" Zim inquired quite earnestly, handing the lieutenant his soiled clothing. She gingerly took it and threw it down the incineration hatch.

"No, no, it isn't that. You know how it is back home, how we have a voice for our tallers and a voice for our smallers. I'm used to being surrounded by height matches and smallers, so most of the time I used my informal voice. I didn't use my 'tallers' voice as often, but now I'm with you all the time. It would be highly inappropriate for me to speak to my invader in such an informal manner." Petra helped said invader stumble into the gel tub where he sank in quite happily. "Please forgive me. I'm just not used to it being only you and me all the time."

"You must have had a ton of friends, then," Zim said quietly. Petra fell silent. Did she have a ton of friends? Were those memories fabricated? "Of course I did as well! Who wouldn't want to be friends with the almighty ZIM?!" he exclaimed, defending himself to an invisible critic. She let out a few quiet chuckles.

"Your rest bay needs to be cleaned, will you be okay by yourself, sir?" Petra inquired. Zim's face flushed once more.

"I'm not going to drown, I'm not a smeet! Go now!" Hesitantly, the lieutenant left the bathroom, but once she reached Zim's room she set the display monitor above his rest bay to show a live feed of his bathroom.

She took a cloth she had been using to wipe down various furnishings and cleaned off Zim's rest bay. However, something was bugging her. She'd noticed that the rest bays in the base weren't incredibly comfortable. It made sense, seeing as the egomaniac invader didn't really sleep all that much, but that meant that the base didn't have any comfortable places to rest. Wait a minute… yes there was!

"Petra! Come and- ugh, I don't wanna say this- come and help me get out!" Zim said over the intercom in his PAK. Quickly she arrived and helped him into a large, loose t-shirt. "When did you clean in here- and where on Irk are you taking me? Is that monitor displaying the bathroom?" he asked as she carried him past his rest bay.

"I figured you felt bad enough, the rest bay probably wasn't helping matters." she said, entering the third and final room of Zim's chambers. The room was dark and purple, and inside was a large, white, circular bed surrounded by a few shallow stairs. It faced a big screen on the wall that was currently dark. He knew that it wasn't nearly as clean when he saw it last, so that meant...

" _YOU WENT INSIDE ZIM'S ROOM OF SECRETS AND SNACKS?!_ " he stage whispered, pulling on the front of Petra's suit. She spared him a single glance before climbing up the dark purple stairs and setting him down on the soft sheets. He grabbed her shoulders tightly and pulled her so close that their foreheads almost touched. " _HOW MANY OF ZIM'S SNACKS DID YOU STEAL?"_

"None. I had to clean up, sir, it was absolutely filthy. I can't let you recuperate in such a dirty place, it's against my training. Don't worry, I didn't throw anything away, it's all just organized. I promise," she added, prying his claws out of her arms. He pouted and crossed his arms, but admittedly he was quite pleased. His chambers had been festering for way too long, and it was nice to sit in the bed without a layer of crumbs and general dirt. "I'll be right back," she said, walking out to grab her invader something to eat.

When she returned, the sight awaiting her almost made her laugh out loud. There was a mountain of large pillows on top of the bed, and the only evidence of Zim being inside was a familiar pair of antennae sticking out of the top. "Sir?" One antenna twitched, but her call was only met with silence.

"I know you're in there, sir."

"Zim is not here. Go away." Yeah, Zim was definitely still wasted. Even he wouldn't do something this stupid sober.

"Sir, are you upset with me?" Silence. "Oh my, it's such a shame that my invader left, isn't it, mysterious pile of pillows? I even brought him snacks and tea, but he isn't here. How sad."

"If Zim were here he wouldn't want to eat food touched by _you_." he pouted, making Petra's brow furrow slightly and her antennae fall back. His statement was quickly followed by the all-too-familiar growl of a squeedlyspooch in need of food, and the pair of antennae sticking out of the pillows twitched.

"Is that so? If he _were_ here I would have apologized and given him lots of Sugar-Coated Marshmallow Blasters." she coaxed, walking up the shallow steps and standing next to the talking pile of cushions.

"... If Zim were by chance to be here, would you give him the Sugar-Coated Marshmallow Blasters even if I was- I mean, he was still mad at you?"

"He hasn't eaten in two days. It won't matter to me whether he eats them angry or not." With that assurance in his mind, Zim's head popped out and he glanced at the lieutenant with a childish scowl. "I'm sorry for going through your things, sir. I'll ask you next time."

"Are you also sorry for treating me like a smeet?" he asked, and she blinked surprisedly.

"I didn't think about how you felt. I'm also sorry for treating you poorly. Would you come out of your pillow pile and eat with me?" Zim paused, but eventually crawled out of the pillows to sit across from her.

"It's not a pillow pile. It's my pillow fortress of doom," he explained, taking a hesitant sip of the still-hot pink tea.

"Ah, of course. I should have noticed. Very doom-y." Petra replied, popping open a bag of the Marshmallow Blasters. Zim, despite himself, smiled eagerly.

"You really think so? I mean, of course you do! It was built by the all powerful ZIM!" he declared, but winced when he realized he had unconsciously begun yelling again.

As they ate, she noticed that Zim was a lot more earnest when he relaxed, and it made Petra wonder when the last time someone had just talked to him was. Thinking about it made her chest heavy, and she couldn't really place why. It almost annoyed her, but she couldn't help but humor him and fawn over him. He was outrageously childish, but it was endearing in a strange way. _Must be the imprint making me irrational,_ she thought to herself.

"You made _that_ promise? To the Dib-worm?! You must be insane!" Zim declared after Petra had finished replaying the past few days events to him.

"To ensure your safety it was worth it," she replied simply, popping another marshmallow into her mouth. Zim frowned, but not in an upset way. It was more… confused.

"Petra?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Have you ever had a friend before?" The question took her quite by surprise, and Petra carefully set aside her mug before answering.

"Yes, I think so."

"What did that feel like?" When she shot him an equally confused look, he quickly backtracked. "Not that Zim has never had friends before, he just wants to know what your friends were like! For research."

"O-oh, of course." She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. "It felt good, although it's hard to put into words. It made me feel appreciated, and wanted. It's kind of hard to describe when I'm put on the spot like that," she chuckled nervously.

"...Petra, are we friends?" The question hit her like The Massive going at hyperspeed. Oh, this was a loaded one.

"I-I'm your lieutenant, and you're my invader. I don't think we're _supposed_ to be friends." Zim bit down on his lip slightly and Petra had to fight the urge to tell him not to hurt himself.

"You're weird," he concluded, pulling his knees up to my chest. "You bring me food, and listen to me all the time. You never call me names. You protect me. You smile at me, and apologize to me, and never make fun of me. You look at me like I'm important to you, l-like I'm _worthy_. You make me care about your well-being after I've hurt you, and I like talking to you. Is that not how friendship works?" He looked up at her with those huge ruby eyes, and somehow Petra couldn't meet them. Caring for him and protecting him were part of her job, but making him feel cared about and worthy was not. It was easy to say she cared about him so much because of the imprint, but what about him? What forced him to care? Oh, why did he have to start this now?! Why couldn't he have kept being angry?

"I'm not saying that that's not what a friendship is, but I don't think that a lieutenant and an invader being friends is normal. I certainly don't call any of my friends sir."

"It's fine if it isn't normal, everyone calls me a defect anyway."

Petra stared at him in absolute shock. Zim didn't even look like he believed he'd said it out loud. Was the Zim that admitted to being called a defect the same Zim that destroyed Operation Impending Doom with the weight of his ego? As soon as he finished processing it, his face flushed a dark emerald and he hid the lower half of his face behind his arms, which rested on his knees. He couldn't even begin to backtrack, as his ego was in shock. _Oh, Tallest. Irk it, what am I supposed to say?_

The lieutenant pursed her lips.

"It wouldn't be a normal friendship. After all, I still work for you and must be subservient to you in every way, which I don't think is really an equal friendship. It wouldn't be normal at all, but then again, what does normal even mean on Earth?" She laughed anxiously. Zim peeked over his arms and perked an antennae. "W-what I'm trying to say is that, well- oh, Tallest I don't even know what I'm trying to say."

"Would it make you happy to be Zim's friend?" he piped up, and Petra hesitantly nodded. I mean, how could she say no? "Then we will be friends- but not for Zim! Zim has many friends, he is the friendliest soldier to ever live, no, it is for you. Because I am so generous." His ramblings got quieter and quieter. Petra couldn't believe the outcome of the situation. Thinking about being the defective shipwreck's friend made the logical part of her brain shudder, but it made the emotional part soar.

"M-maybe you should get some rest, sir, it's been quite a momentous few days! Ha ha, let me clean this up…" Petra stiffly scooped up the finished food and tossed it into a nearby incinerator hatch. "I'll be going now, ha ha…" _Why do I keep laughing?!_

"Um, Petra?" The lieutenant froze in the doorway. "You play that instrument over there, right?" Zim gestured to a grand piano that sat in the corner of the room. Petra had found it underneath a gargantuan pile of magazines (she had no idea why he had it), but had to settle for simply cleaning it because there was no good place to store it in case Zim wanted it.

"You go to that musical teacher's home to learn human-song-thingies, right? I want to see you play a song on it before you go." It was an odd request, to say the least, but it wasn't like she had the ability to refuse.

"What song do you want to hear?" she asked, settling at the player's bench. After plunking out a few notes she realized it was actually tuned, which was a good surprise.

"I don't care." Zim replied, getting settled underneath the covers and arranging the pillows that had once been his fortress of doom into a comfortable position. As she glanced back and watched him, she realized this was his way of asking for a lullaby. She turned away again before he could see her smile.

"Alright, then. I watched Mrs. Mayer play this song a few weeks ago. She said it was called Gymnopédie, or something along those lines." Petra turned on her holo disguise, but only on her hands so she could properly play, and began to quietly play the song.

Zim watched her back in idle fascination, and soon found his eyelids began to get heavy. He could feel the urge to enter a sleep cycle pulling him farther and farther away from reality. Something popped into his head a moment before he closed his eyes, though. He had heard the song on the radio once before, and when he first heard it it struck him as an oddly lonely melody. He didn't really like it, but now…

"What a pretty song," Petra heard Zim mutter, so quiet it could barely be heard. When she glanced back at him, he was deeply asleep. He didn't really move when she stopped playing, so she got up and began to pick up pillows and throw them back into a storage panel in the wall. She left a good amount, but not nearly the outrageous amount he had brought out.

Before she walked away, though, she stopped to look at her invader. He had fallen asleep just before the end of the song, so he must have been exhausted. _He looks so peaceful,_ she thought to herself before shaking her head to clear her mind and leaving the room. She had more important things to do than watch Zim sleep, like put together his doctor's notes.

She returned to her room and sat down at her desk to put together a convincing note. Petra paused, the pen in her hand wavering just above the paper. Her leg bounced, her finger was tapping, and she was generally acting like a spaz. "Oh, Tallest, I'm not going to be able to work unless I do this, am I?" she sighed, and caved in, gathering what she'd need and getting up.

That night, Zim slept peacefully, unaware that his lieutenant was silently sitting right beside him, hard at work.

(A/N: Hey, kind of a short chapter, I'm sorry. Classes started for me recently, and while I should still have ample time to write, it's been an adjustment. Also, all I've been writing this week is essays for class, so forgive me if this chapter feels weird at all. I just really needed to give Zim some love, I've been paying too much attention to Dib lately. Thank you so much for reading, and please leave me a review so I can improve.)


	12. It Rains, It Pours

The next day was painfully slow. Zim continued to sleep, and was still passed out when Petra got home from school. _I can't really take care of him if he's not awake,_ she thought. Besides sit and watch him sleep, there wasn't a ton to do around the base, and if she just watched him she'd feel really creepy.

"If I'd have known that he'd sleep for this long I wouldn't have told Dib not to call me today," she sighed to herself. Every project was done, all of Zim's missed work was long completed, there wasn't a speck of dirt in sight… instead of being relaxing, the lieutenant almost found the absence of work nerve-wracking.

While she desperately tried to think of something to do, she found herself standing in the doorway of Zim's room. _Great, now I'm a creeper. Maybe I should just get out of the house,_ she mused. _I've been so caught up with the living phthalo sponge over there that I haven't really gone anywhere lately. But where should I go?_

The question seemed to answer itself, though, as the piano in the corner somehow caught Petra's eye. "Computer, monitor my invader while I'm out, please," she called, and the computer replied with an almost lighthearted series of blips. She knew _exactly_ where to go.

While Petra readied herself to leave the base again, the computer turned on its motion sensors and began to monitor the brain activity of its owner. The AI, happy to be doing something other than take inventory, allowed itself to drift into an oddly unfamiliar stream of thought. Petra had brought many positive changes since her arrival, but her behaviour was beginning to seem a bit odd. The transmissions she had been receiving couldn't be recorded or monitored, meaning it was on a non-empire network. In addition, she seemed to have received access to a network of cameras that she watched quite often, although the faces of those that showed up in it were blurred. All of this was becoming seriously suspicious.

There was always the option to send a report to the Massive, but there were a few roadblocks. The Tallest had disconnected all but a few connections from Zim's base to the Massive, hoping that this freedom would encourage him to assist some Resisty-esque organization and give them a more fun reason to kill him besides "everyone hates him". On top of that, there was the fact that there was no recording of Petra on a call or watching the cameras, since the AI was not allowed to record the personal chambers of the base, only monitor them. It didn't really matter in the end, because even if it did have the ability to send a report, the AI didn't really feel like exposing Petra. After all, who else around the base would say "please" and "thank you"?

 _If I know one thing,_ it thought as it watched the lieutenant in question leave the base, _it sure wouldn't be Zim._

* * *

 _Knock knock._

"Why hello, Petra. Is Zim still sick?" Mrs. Mayer asked, smiling warmly and welcoming her inside.

"No, he's just getting some good rest now. His fever's passed," Petra replied, shrugging off her jacket. "It sure is cold outside today."

"Is it? It's barely even November, dear, winter's hardly even begun. Are you sure you're from Amsterdam?" the teacher joked, and Petra was only barely able to mask her shock. It got _colder?_ This wasn't even winter? She had read past temperatures in the area before, but it was hard to understand when the empire didn't use degrees Fahrenheit.

"Anyways, I was hoping you would come over today," Mrs. Mayer said cheerfully, shooing Donner off of the player's bench to take a seat at the piano. The little dog let out a very indignant yap, but decided against arguing further when he heard Alphonse barking in the living room. After the pup had skittered off to join his proportionally mismatched brother, the teacher continued, "I had a good idea for a lesson. Have you ever played a song that you'd never heard played out loud before?"

"Well," Petra thought for a moment. "No, I don't believe I have."

"I didn't think so! It's called sight-reading. I'd like you to sight read this piece- it's called Doll's Dream," she explained, scooting over on the bench to give her student a spot to sit. Petra immediately obliged, and once Mrs. Mayer set the metronome she began to play.

She read the page carefully and made sure that she didn't make one mistake, and found that it was surprisingly easier than she expected. While the whole sight-reading thing was a little strange, it wasn't difficult. She thought she had been doing fine when suddenly, halfway through the song, the metronome stopped.

Petra peeled her eyes off of the music and turned to see Mrs. Mayer with one slender finger holding the metronome's needle in place. On her face she wore a very slight frown, a sight as unfamiliar as it was disheartening. "Did I mess up?" Petra asked, an unexpected sliver of anxiety slicing through her squeedlyspooch.

"No, no, you did perfectly fine. I knew you'd be able to play this song easily, even while sight-reading, and it you did everything right. It wasn't really about sight-reading though," the teacher sighed, and folded her hands in her lap. "I noticed that your style of playing, while very good, sounded oddly familiar. It wasn't until last night that I realized what it was. My husband mentioned that you play exactly like I do."

"Your piano skills are amazing, so isn't that a good thing?"

"Well, it's both a good thing and a bad thing. You pick up on little things that took me years to develop just by hearing me play it, and that's a skill I only find in people who have played the piano for a lifetime. But…"

"But?"

Mrs. Mayer exhaled softly and laid a hand on Petra's shoulder. "Just now, what you played sounded like it was coming from a robot. If it was a test, you would have aced it, and the technique was all there, but I couldn't _feel_ the song. That's quite common among newer learners and new sight-readers, but I don't expect that from you. I didn't realize that the only reason you played with feeling before was because you were imitating me."

Petra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It felt as though she was letting the teacher down- being a disappointment was not a feeling that she was accustomed to. Somehow, she couldn't meet the adult's eyes without feeling a tight, painful squeeze in her throat.

"It's nothing to feel bad about, Petra. This is just an opportunity to learn!" Mrs. Mayer's pensive expression melted into a much brighter one. "How about we do a little exercise?"

"... You want to run?"

Mrs. Mayer let out an amused chuckle. "No, not right now. I do this with students that have a hard time playing with emotion. Just look at the keyboard and play the first thing that comes into your head. Not an already existing song, mind you. It doesn't have to sound good, it just has to sound like how you feel!"

 _That doesn't make any sense at all,_ Petra criticised internally, but still she placed her hands on the keys. _Play how I feel?_

In the living room, Lucas happened to overhear his mother's lesson. "Finn, let's go watch, she's doing the 'play how you feel' thing! I hope she sucks," he giggled devilishly, dragging his twin to secretly peer into the lesson room. He watched as his mother stood up to watch from the window, and eagerly awaited what he thought would be that weird Dutch girl's horrible failure.

Petra gingerly plunked out a few weird notes, only exciting the boys further, and the sounds bounced around the room. She reached out and played a chord. It was one of those weird ones that you could feel in your throat and lingered the air like fog, and Petra winced. What on Irk did play how you feel even mean? The girl squirmed under her mentor's watchful gaze. The feeling of not knowing how to do something was not a pleasant one, to say the least. Mindlessly, she began to play a very simple, childish melody. It sounded like something that you'd hear while turning the crank on a jack-in-the-box. Mrs. Mayer watched in idle interest at her student, having seen the same situation play out a hundred times before, and the twins began to lose interest.

It seemed that the lieutenant herself was unhappy with the tune, and the song was getting more complex. It was nice, but she was becoming stressed and it was beginning to show. Petra slowed the melody down to a near halt, and the notes were sharp and spaced out. _Play how I feel, play how I feel… wait, this song sounds familiar._

"Come on Lucas, I don't wanna watch anymore, I'm bored." Finn complained quietly, tugging softly on his brother's arm. Just before he caved in and walked away, though, something strange began to happen. Petra's face went completely blank, devoid of any feeling, and started to play again. It was the same as before, but something felt eerily different.

It was unlike any song that any of the onlookers had ever heard before. While the notes themselves combined into a cheerful tune, the undertones were full of dread. The combinations of notes and chords were strange and new, but oddly beautiful. It was beautiful in the way that dark, dead forests look on a foggy day. The melody turned the air into a bittersweet, melancholy stew that made everyone involved almost feel lonely. The first thought that popped into Mrs. Mayer's head was that it felt like a song played by someone mourning a loss. Finn had memories of being lost come to mind, and Lucas could only think of the one time he had experienced sleep paralysis. In the nursery, Mr. Mayer could barely hear the song floating up the stairs as he sat in a rocking chair. To his own surprise the tune brought memories of the war. And baby Emma Marie, who knew nothing much at all, continued to toy with her wooden block with a new sense of dread in the back of her head.

If you'd have asked them how they described it, every single one would have said it didn't feel like a song that could be played by a human being.

Abruptly, Petra stopped. The piercing final note hung heavy in the air, so weighty that even Alphonse let out an uneasy huff. Mrs. Mayer blinked to rid herself of the trance that had befallen her.

"Oh, my, Petra, that was wonderful! Why did you stop in the middle?" Her words knocked the twins out of the trance themselves, but Petra still didn't move. Her arms were still slightly raised, long fingers outstretched and perched on the keys as though someone had pressed pause. She felt a hot, burning, painful sensation building up in her throat and found herself completely unable to fight this new, unexpected enemy.

Petra began to cry.

It was slow at first, like the way the tides roll in deep before a tsunami. Hot tears that had no hurry to go anywhere at all leaked out of the corners of her eyes, but they were quickly pushed aside by tears that seemingly had an agenda. Even as the wetness streamed down her cheeks, she stayed perfectly silent and still, like a statue in the rain. She in truth, didn't even known what was upsetting her. Petra had been stabbed without ever knowing what a knife was.

Mrs. Mayer wasn't exactly quick to respond to her student's plight, as while she had guessed that a kid like Petra was probably doing some serious repression, she didn't exactly expect a situation like this. The moment of surprise passed quickly, and she rushed to cradle Petra in her arms. "I'm so sorry, darling, I wouldn't have done this exercise if I knew that it would upset you so much, oh dear-"

Once the shock wore off, Petra was quick to pull her sweater over her face, but the tears just wouldn't stop. Something about that song made her feel so absolutely exposed, but Petra couldn't think of many things she had to hide in the first place. She felt sick to her stomach, her head was absolutely throbbing, and it felt as though her very bones were burning up. _Am I sick? What's wrong with me?_

Lucas's stomach tied itself into empathetic knots, and Finn grabbed his hand and successfully yanked him away from the doorway. "I don't wanna watch this anymore." Hesitantly, Lucas followed his brother outside where they climbed up into their treehouse and sat. Something felt heavy, even out of the house.

Back in the piano room, Mrs. Mayer was guiltily apologizing to her student and her motherly instinct was at a high. Petra could only painfully wait until the waterworks ended, and it was a few minutes before the pipes ran dry. Her head was dully throbbing with a subsiding pain when Mrs. Mayer asked, "Petra, did something happen?"

 _Did_ something happen? Her head hurt horribly, so maybe it had something to do with the brain lock. Yes, of course, nothing was wrong. It was just the brain lock. The brain lock.

Somehow, that explanation failed to satisfy the ravenous pit of anxiety that planted itself in the bottom of her squeedlyspooch. But what else could it be? Life was fine here, while challenging, so what was the issue? It had to be something about that song, but where on Irk had she heard it before? _Is this part of the past that got locked away?_

Mrs. Mayer donned another unfitting frown as she mistook Petra's pensive silence to mean something sinister.

"I don't know, Mrs. Mayer. It must just be the stress of living in a new country, is all. I'm sorry." Petra sniffled quietly.

 _New country my ass. There's more to this, and I'm going to do something whether the district listens or not,_ the teacher seethed internally, but easily masked it. "Petra, dear, I know that usually our lessons last longer, but how would you like me to walk you home?"

"Uh, sure, that sounds fine." She didn't really want to be in the house, but she also didn't want to be alone, so it sounded like a fair enough compromise at the time. The lieutenant picked up her jacket and slipped it on before leaving.

On the way, they made small talk about the weather and television programs, and the easy flow of conversation lulled Petra out of her anxious shell. While she was significantly more guarded than normal, Mrs. Mayer could have sworn that she looked like nothing had happened. By the time that they reached the house, Petra felt as though her head was much clearer than it was before.

Just as they approached the front step, the door opened. Standing in the doorway was Zim, fully disguised with GIR on a leash. "Oh, you've woken up! How do you feel?" Petra chirped, quickly dashing up the steps to address the boy.

"I was just about to come and get you- why is the teacher of musics here?" Zim cut himself off to ponder why on Irk Mrs. Mayer might be standing in his front lawn. Meanwhile, Mrs. Mayer was plotting to herself and observing every move the children made.

"I'd like to talk to your parents for just a moment, if that's alright," she said, but noticed the uncomfortable glance the pair shared. " _Is_ that alright?"

"You can speak to my perfectly human parents but um, not right now, because… um…" Zim trailed off, unable to think of a suitable excuse.

"They're out for the night! Yeah, they're out for some, uh… pottery thing. With ceramics and music and stuff." Petra interjected.

"Oh, the couple's ceramic's class down at the mall?" Mrs. Mayer asked.

"Yes, yes! That is the thing they are doing, normal human pot things. With clay. At the mall." Zim spewed confidently.

"I was under the impression that those classes had been cancelled last week after that dreadful kiln explosion," the teacher scrutinized. Petra smiled nervously and cleared her throat.

"They must have gone to get dinner or something, then. They'll probably be back soon enough. Who knows!" Mrs. Mayer's suspicious eye laid heavily on the children and she smiled.

"Well, I'm sure you won't mind if I came in for a minute to ask a few questions anyways. I won't be long, really." She took a careful step forward, and Zim visibly bristled. Mrs. Mayer winced internally at the obvious guards that he (and earlier, Petra) had clearly put up, but it seemed to be a necessary evil in their home. One way or another, she was going to get inside that house.

Suddenly, GIR (who had been rocking gently back and forth through the whole exchange) saw a squirrel hop across the rooftop of a neighboring house, and let out a horrible mechanical screech, pulling sharply against the leash. The force of the pull yanked Zim off the step, and he tumbled onto the concrete and landed face first at the feet of Mrs. Mayer.

"Oh no, are you alright, love? Let me clean that up for you," Mrs. Mayer said, and before Zim could protest he was lifted onto his feet and ushered into the front door of his base. "Petra, could you bring me some hydrogen peroxide?"  
The lieutenant nervously shut the front door as her teacher pushed Zim to the sink. Petra was never happier that she'd gotten rid of the toilet in the kitchen than she was at that moment. "We don't have any hydrogen peroxide."

"What? Don't you have a first aid kit in the house?"

"Of course not! First aid kits are for the most minor of injuries, and the great ZIM needs not tend to such tiny matters!" the invader exclaimed, pointing one declarative finger in the air. The lieutenant attempted to make a comment, but she was promptly interrupted by her mentor who had tried to turn on the tap in the sink. Instead of the familiar slightly tainted water flowing out of the spigot, the sink remained dry as ever.

"Oh my, what on Earth is going on with the water supply?" Mrs. Mayer pondered aloud. The above-ground parts of the base were disconnected from the water supply because GIR had left the tap on too many times and once flooded the entire first floor, leaving Zim with some badly blistered feet after stepping out of the secret elevator without thinking.

"Well- I-" Petra began to try and lie herself out of the situation when a very loud series of noises erupted from the hallway and GIR came skittering out while chasing a fly.

"I'm gonna getcha! I'm gonna getcha!" he cried, desperately trying to jump up and catch the fly in his mouth. In his chase, he scrambled past Petra and into the kitchen, deciding to jump up extra high and use his master as a springboard. The impact sent Zim tumbling to the floor, where he slammed his head into the countertop on the way down. GIR managed to catch the fly in his mouth, crash into the dining room table and roll off the side, giggling manically.

Petra, mortified, could only stand and observe the hellish scene before her. Zim was in fetal position on the kitchen floor, clutching his slightly askew wig and cursing his robotic minion. GIR continued to roll until he gently tapped against Petra's shoes, still laughing at a piercingly shrill level. And worst of all, Mrs. Mayer stood at the sink, hand still on the tap, taking the entirety of the situation in. "Is there something wrong with your little green pet?" The question made Petra feel like she was going to vomit.

"He, uh, has allergies." The lieutenant frantically scrambled to pick up the robot before her and hurriedly lifted her invader to his feet. "Do you mind if I have a sidebar with my dearest family friend and dog for a moment?" She could feel Zim stiffen at the word "friend", but pushed the thought aside.

"Sure, go ahead," Mrs. Mayer replied, and Petra quickly dragged GIR and Zim across the living room and into the bathroom, where she locked the door. Before she even said a word, she took a deep breath and walked over to the window, opening it just wide enough to stick her head out of it. Then, quite loudly, she proceeded to exclaim every curse word and offensive phrase she knew, in Dutch, English, and any other language she had happened to overhear. Zim watched in slight uneasy awe, but hesitated to stop her. He kind of got it, honestly.

"First last night, and then the song, and now this! And you!" Petra exclaimed, picking GIR up by the scruff of his costume and growling into his face. The bot writhed nervously.

"Aren't I too cute to stay mad at?" he inquired, striking a very Lisa Frank style pose and batting his eyes.

"I swear on the necks of the Tallest I am going to sell you for scrap metal the first chance I get." Petra sneered, dropping the obnoxious little monster to the ground and looking at her invader. Even though he knew that he ultimately had the final say over her, he still felt a flash of fear run through him as he met her icy gaze. In one swift stride she met him toe-to-toe, and grabbed his shoulders firmly.

"Sir, have your wounds healed?" The question caught Zim completely off-guard, but he shifted his weight and managed to make eye contact when he replied.

"Y-yes, of course! The almighty Zim would never fall prey to such petty wounds!" he explained, scrambling to stay as professional (ie. egotistical) as usual.

"Good, good." Petra paused for a moment, staring directly into his eyes. Then, she reeled her head back and stared up at the ceiling, her grasp on the invader still firm as ever.

"Uh, Petra, what are you-" The lieutenant cut him off by slamming her forehead into his own, letting her lieutenant brand hit him like an arrow at a target, managing to knock one of his contacts out and leaving him completely disoriented and confused.

"Sir, I am authorized to use force against you if the mission is being threatened. If you haven't noticed, the mission is being _super_ threatened right now!" she hissed, baring her very sharp teeth. "What are we going to do if Mrs. Mayer runs back to the district and tells them how weird we're being? She's going to blow our cover!"

Zim frowned and rubbed the now quite sore spot that was blossoming into a bruise on his forehead. She really meant business.

"Aren't you friends with that little boy? Jessica?" he inquired.

"She's not a- what does that have to do with this?" Petra released the invader from her grasp and he was free to pick up his contact and put it back in.

"Isn't her maternal guardian head of the PDA or something? Just ask Jessica to discredit whatever report the music human wants to send in."

"Sir, that's… actually, you're onto something there."

"What do you mean, 'actually'?"

Just then, both Irkens heard a soft cry of surprise coming from down the hallway. _I didn't think the walls were so thin,_ Petra thought, poking her head out of the bathroom. The noise had been Mrs. Mayer, peeking into the room that was supposed to serve as the master bedroom. When she rushed forward to see what was so shocking, she realized what the loud noise GIR had made earlier was.

The room was in shambles. There was shards of decorative glass on the floor, the bed was messy and the lamps were on the floor, unplugged. The vanity mirror was shattered and the curtains were lopsided, and as soon as GIR scampered up behind her to see what all the commotion was about, Petra snatched him up like she would disassemble him right there.

"Oh my," Mrs. Mayer said quietly. "How long has the room been like this?"

"It's nothing, it's nothing. You know parents, they're so… messy." Zim lied poorly. Mrs. Mayer tapped a worried finger on her chin.

"How often are your parents working, would you say?"

"Oh, all the time. They're hardly ever here, so you probably will never see them!" Zim said. "No need to come back and find them, they'll probably be working if you return."

"Ah. And who does the cooking? The cleaning? Who does paperwork and pays bills?" The children shared a confused glance. Who was supposed to do all that, again?

"Petra does that," the invader answered.

"Not your parents? Why's that?" Mrs. Mayer turned her attention away from the room and fully onto her student.

"...Chores?" Petra unsurely replied, as that was the only plausible explanation she could think of. To her relief, her mentor smiled a little and patted her student on the head.

"You are such a hard working little girl. I should be going now, Mr. Mayer is making dinner tonight. You don't have to tell your parents I stopped by, we can keep it to ourselves, okay?" Mrs. Mayer said with a playful wink.

"Yes! Yes, just between us is perfectly fine," Zim said with vigor, and Petra felt immense relief. This whole situation didn't even last twenty minutes and the affair felt like it had taken a lifetime to pass!

With that, Mrs. Mayer said her goodbyes and took her leave, and the house was blissfully quiet after her departure. Petra tiredly shut off her disguise, and collapsed onto the couch, and her invader followed suit and tossed his wig and contacts to the side. GIR, chirping happily, plopped himself right in-between them and turned on the TV to a rerun of the Scary Monkey made-for-television movie, _Enter the Jungle_. While the program was not her favorite, at least the robot wasn't talking.

Zim pulled a pair of Candy-Stik packages out of his PAK and offered one to his lieutenant. She gratefully accepted his offer, as she desperately needed the energy after the emotional strain that had come from existing in the past day or so.

"Petra, you might want to work on some emotional control. It's always all or nothing, I've noticed, and your all is- well, intense is a good word for it." Zim mused, dipping the stick into the sugary powder pouch.

"You think I'm intense?" Petra asked, holding her candy stick in her teeth as she dug into her coat pocket for her phone.

"Yeah, a little bit," Zim replied, rubbing the light green bruise on his forehead. Hopefully it would heal up in a few hours. "I'm telling you this as a… ahem. As a friend."

"Oh." Getting told to work on emotional control by someone like Zim was humbling, at best, but he did make good points from time to time. "You're probably right, sir."

"I know I am. Zim is never wrong."

To this Petra could only discreetly roll her eyes, but something more pressing took her attention. She redialed the last number she had called and waited. On the third ring, the recipient picked up.

"Jessica?" she asked, turning on her accent once more. "Yeah, it's me. Can I ask you for a favor?"

* * *

"What's wrong?" Mr. Mayer asked, watching his wife read in bed next to him. He could tell something was up, seeing as she hadn't turned the page in ten minutes and was staring ahead with a pensive expression.

"Well…" she sighed and set the book down on the nightstand.

"This isn't still about Petra, is it? Julia, you've tried this before, you have to let it go."

"Oh, Peter, you don't understand. I visited her home today, and the conditions are disastrous at best. They had no idea where the guardians were when I arrived, and when I looked around it seemed like they were never home. The room I assumed to be the parents' was littered with broken glass and was a total mess, there was nothing in the pantry but sugar, they didn't own any first aid supplies, and there was no water. I simply don't know how those children are clean, but it's no wonder they're so small. And it was bizarre, too. The ceiling was covered in wires and the bedrooms of the children were so clean that it looked as though no one lived there. I can't understand why the district just sits by as their students rot away!"

"Oh, love. Did they tell you anything incriminating?" he inquired, wrapping a comforting arm around his distressed wife. She sighed and nodded.

"Practically everything was. They claimed that the parents were at work all the time, and never home. Petra did all the cooking, and the cleaning, and they even said she did paperwork and bills. When I asked why, she said it was part of her chores. Chores! If that girl is so used to that behavior that she calls it chores, who knows what she had to do when she was in Amsterdam? She just burst out crying during a lesson today while doing the emotional exercise. It makes me sick to think of what she and Zim might be living with day-to-day. The worst part is that after a very chaotic accident involving a pet, she dragged Zim into the bathroom and when he came out, he had clearly been hit. I even heard her screaming the strangest obscenities in frustration. Have you ever heard a twelve-year-old shout the phrase 'suck my wiggly dick' with full confidence before? It's _really_ weird. And just who do you think could be setting such a violent example?" she ranted, becoming quite animated with her gestures.

"Petra didn't seem like someone with a poor temper to me," Mr. Mayer pondered. "These parents get shittier every time you talk about them, don't they?" Mrs. Mayer exhaled loudly and leaned into her partner.

"Also, I think their dog is possessed."

"Really?"

"You'd understand if you saw it."

"You think putting a possessed dog in front of a jury would qualify as solid evidence?" he joked, and his wife couldn't help but let out a soft snort. "If you have the proof, Jules, then by all means submit another referral for a home visit. Maybe you'll get through this time."

"Yeah, maybe." Suddenly, a familiar wail erupted from the nursery. A frustrated cry that was easily identified as Lucas could be heard from the room just beyond the nursery as he struggled to get to sleep. "Em really is fussy tonight, isn't she?"

"It's your turn, love."

"No, I think it's _your_ turn." This bickering continued for only a moment before Finn, on the opposite side of the master bedroom from the nursery decided that he was also unhappy with baby Emma Marie's behavior.

"Will one of you just get the stinkin' baby?!" he cried, knocking once on the wall for good measure. Mr. Mayer sighed and got up to go to the nursery, and the teacher made a mental note to take care of Emma Marie the next two times. Peter was right, it was totally her turn.

(A/N: I'm uploading this a day late, sorry y'all. I know I keep saying this, but my new school really is an adjustment. I have to walk outside so much, and it's still hot here in Yeehawville, so I'm not feeling top of the line. I didn't want to upload this chapter when it was so short, because I wanted to produce quality content, but I'm going to try writing as much as I can to get into the habit of setting a time. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and please leave my a review so I can improve. Thank you all for reading.)


	13. Yeah, It's Not Getting Better, Is It?

"Hello again, Dib," Mrs. N chirped as the boy trudged into her office once again. She mechanically took the slip he placed on her desk and skimmed over it, expecting to see the same old thing. Not today.

"Dib, can you tell me why you're here?" Mrs. N placed the note face down on the desk and scooted her chair over to see the small boy sitting in his usual seat, arms crossed. "Because your referral is totally blank."

Dib shrugged and frowned. While he wasn't happy-go-lucky in any sense of the word, he was never scowled like that. When he had that dark, apathetic look on his face it was easy to see how he and his sister were related. "Coach Walrus got angry at me for not wanting to play Bludgeonball against Zim, and then started yelling because I was 'too quiet'. Bludgeonball seems to always get me sent here, now that I think about it," Dib added, remembering the first time he met Mr. Dwicky.

 _Too quiet? This boy?_ Mrs. N thought, raising one eyebrow. But to be honest, she had been waiting for him to come in. Almost every faculty member in the school knew about what was happening in the district offices right now, and considering who was involved Dib no doubt was going to be affected by it as well.

"Do you still believe Zim is an alien?" the counselor asked, and Dib froze up. He was quiet for a moment, and he glared at no one in particular.

"...No," he said through gritted teeth. "Zim is not an alien." Dib knew Zim was an alien. He knew for _certain_ \- but if he said anything that insinuated that the green menace was anything but human, the would-be paranormal investigator was as good as dead. As painful as it was to deny the truth, it was in his best interest to lie about it.

Unfortunately, it was well established to anyone that knew him that Dib was an atrocious liar, and the counselor was no exception. "Oh, really?" She feigned surprise. "I'm glad you have come to your senses. That poor boy's home life has opened your eyes, I see."

"What are you talking about?"

"You must know, you're friends with that girl who lives with him, aren't you?" The name wasn't said, but Dib cringed internally at the thought of her. He had been trying not to think about _her_ since her impromptu visit to the lab. There were so many inconsistencies in her story- like how the first time he met her, when she took his glasses, she didn't have an accent. The next day she did. He had been so blinded by the big picture that he didn't even think about looking into the details. At least he got a good deal in the end- speaking of, he planned on calling her tonight. Heaven knows that he had questions, now.

"I would say that I know her well… which part _exactly_ of their home life is so disturbing?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you all this, but Julia- I mean, Mrs. Mayer has started making a fuss about the abuse that she witnessed during an unplanned home visit. Mrs. Planckman, Jessica's mother, adamantly refutes all of her claims. I don't know why that woman cares, but since she's chairwoman of the PTA she's managed to delay the district from taking any action, at least for the time being. If you ask me, they should just take those kids now."

 _Abuse? If anything, Zim's the abuser and the world is his victim,_ thought Dib. _Whatever, what does it matter anyways. They're fine._

"Oh. Why exactly did you think Petra and I were friends, again?"

"Right, that is her name. Someone told me they had seen you two talking before and after the Fitness Exam, and you two seem like you have compatible personalities." Dib couldn't help but let a question escape him.

"I definitely don't think we're friendly," he said. "What in the world would make you think that we would be?"  
"Isn't it obvious?" Mrs. N picked the note up off her desk and folded into a neat square before tossing it into the trash bin next to the door. "You are both such little lone wolves!"

"Lone wolf? Mrs. N, Petra is a social butterfly. She's besties with the most popular girl in our grade, maybe even the school, and got to that status in like, a week. I don't think she's my breed of 'crazy outcast'," he criticized, but the counselor just waved her hand at him.

"A black sheep always stands out in a flock, and often times the first sheep to be seen is the first sent to slaughter," Dib's confusion was obvious, and the woman sighed and turned back to her computer. "Not everyone is alone all their lives, Dib, but never being without company can be just as painful as solitude."

The boy opened his mouth to reply, but found there were no words. It wasn't that he didn't have anything to say (quite the opposite, really), it was just that he couldn't quite verbalize it. He remembered back to when he and Petra had that talk when he was caught at Zim's base.

* * *

" _...I didn't want to be by myself."_

 _Dib paused and watched his captor in shock. She was stoic and stony, but he could hear the genuinity in her voice. She was uncomfortable, nervous, maybe even annoyed. Oh, how the turntables._

" _Excuse me? Are Irkens super social or something? I mean, Zim didn't really give off a 'gets along with others' vibe."_

" _If you must know, our home planet is highly populated and being alone is incredibly rare. So rare that I can't remember a time in my whole life that I've been by myself. Being alone with one's thoughts isn't always a productive endeavor, anyway. What are you looking at me like that for?"_

* * *

Oh, there was the discomfort again. That seed of uncertainty that planted itself in Dib's chest every time he happened to remember a time that Petra chose to act in a particularly human sort of way. The thing about heroes in movies and television was that the villians and the monsters were always just that- villains and monsters. In real life, the Boogeyman was just a person. And if he's just a person, then what does that make our heroes?

"You can stay in here until your gym period is over. It's not like you children learn much in that class that you can't learn outside, anyways," mused Mrs. N, interrupting his stream of thought.

"Oh- yeah. Thank you." Maybe Dib wouldn't call Petra until tomorrow, after all. He didn't really feel like asking the Boogeyman any pressing questions.

* * *

Meanwhile, Petra was sitting with Jessica on the bleachers. The girls were all talking to each other, but the alien was quiet. While her friends chatted away about some dating show that had aired the night before, she was remembering something very important. Her time at the academy.

Now that she knew about the brain lock, she had to question everything about her past. Was everyone she had ever met before she came to Earth fake? It was a well-worn pattern of thought that she travelled, and every time Petra came out feeling worse and worse. There was a chance that all of her friends, every good memory, every shred of hope she'd relied on was all fabricated. A lie in a web of them, all strung together with glittering strings that kept the empire suspended above the rest. Strings that those caught in them were too afraid to cut, lest their entire reality be shattered. Everything they've ever known, gone.

Petra rubbed her arm, and while her hands felt human skin she could point out where every scar rested. She had thought that the scars were just a byproduct of "special training", something she went through to test the boundaries of the empire's newest little experiment. But whenever she tried to think back to it, she couldn't think of one single instance where she could have undergone something so painful that it left scars. Usually, Irkens healed up so fast that it didn't leave a scar. You really had to work to leave a mark, and that would be something worth remembering.

The alien watched her invader play kickball and get repeatedly hit on the head, many times knocking him to the dirt, where he would writhe and yell about something or another. It was amusing in a sadistic sort of way, but truthfully that too was forcing her deeper into her gloom. Every time that he got knocked down, no matter how much he screamed into the soil, he got back up again. She was sure that Zim knew that he was getting up only to get hit again, but he never allowed them to keep him down for more than a minute. It was one of his few admirable skills- he was persistent to a fault. He had no idea that the Tallest considered him to be trash, that he was the laughingstock of the entire universe, and the thought that he carried the success of the empire on his back gave him the strength to keep going. To keep scheming, to keep failing. To keep getting out of the dirt.

 _Prose is garbage. I sound like one of the kids that smokes behind the bookstore and go to cafes to pretend to not want to be there,_ Petra thought to herself, rubbing her temples and letting out a very quiet sigh. Despite her nature, she was beginning to get very sick of the empire.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you," Jessica turned to face her very gloomy friend, and patted her shoulder to get her attention. "Mom made sure to keep Mrs. Mayer's freak out on the DL, but I don't know how long it will last. Like, every teacher in the whole Skool Diztrikt knows about your 'situation' because she went around running her mouth. Sorry, babe." Jessica had a rare undertone of sincerity in her voice, and Petra couldn't help but let a sympathetic smile sneak onto her face.

"Poppy, it isn't your fault. What is it you always say? Don't sweat it," she assured, and the blonde flashed her a genuine grin before returning to her previous conversation. Just as she turned away, Petra felt a buzz in her pocket. She checked who was calling, and realized it was a transmission request sent to her PAK. Quietly, she snuck off to a secluded little spot on the side of the school and answered it.

A PAK screen attachment sprung in front of Petra's face and she identified two familiar shadowy figures on the other side.

"Hey, Apex. We've been able to start breaking the lock down a little faster lately. Have you felt any effects? Any breakthroughs?" the taller one said, her voice thick with excitement. "You might have encountered something small that reminded you of your past, and it might have caused an extreme reaction, but as long as it didn't manifest into physical pain then that means we're doing alright."

"Well, I suppose you could say it was an… _extreme_ reaction, but no, the pain wasn't unbearable. It seemed more like a headache than the short, sharp pains I get from the brain lock. I guess you guys really are doing your work out there," Petra replied.

"Could you tell us exactly what happened? That is, if you don't mind."

"I, uh… I don't really want to talk about it." Petra's face burned, and the holo disguise she wore automatically matched her expression. Remembering how emotional she became over something so trivial was incredibly embarrassing, and she was willing to risk omitting the details. Instead of pressing, the pair just nodded. Just as she was about to ask if there was anything else that they needed, she received another transmission request.

She couldn't remember receiving a transmission with the Tallest insignia to her PAK befo- _OH STARS ABOVE, THE TALLEST WERE ON THE OTHER LINE!_

"Igottagotalktoyoulaterbye-" Petra rushed to hang up on the dark pair and answer the call as quickly as humanly (alienly?) possible. "Hello, my Tallest!" she greeted, and she was met with a judgemental silence. _What? Oh._

"Um, you can't see it under the disguise, but I did the salute. My apologies."

"Oh. Well! Greetings, P-34." Tallest Red said. "I trust that things are going well?"

Purple nudged his co-leader and snickered a little. "As good as they can be going, I mean." Red corrected, letting out a small chuckle himself.

"I hate to pressure you, my Tallest, but I am currently in a somewhat public place. Might I ask why you graced me with your presence today?" Petra asked, discreetly scanning the area around her. However, since her disguise had pupils and her eyes were no longer one solid color, it didn't come quite as discreet as she intended.

"I forgot how cold those little lieutenants are," Red muttered to his partner, before addressing the camera once again. "You need to go back to your base- right now."

"R-right now? Is everything alright? I can get my invader if there is an emergency!"

"NO! No, no, there's no need to get Zim. In fact, that's why we called you specifically. Don't worry, Zim knows about everything. Don't waste time going to ask him, though-" Purple stammered, and his counterpart responded by shoving a donut from out of frame into his mouth.

"What he means to say is that there isn't any time to waste. This is urgently important and you must return to your base _immediately._ " demanded Red, and Petra shifted uncomfortably. It didn't feel right, but she couldn't just question them!

"Of course, my Tallest. I will depart right away."

"Good, good. Be fast." Red concluded, and the transmission blipped off. There wasn't any time to call her helpers back, but if she was quick about it she could purge their data from her PAK before she got back to the base.

She made her way to a main road and was about to start sprinting when her PAK buzzed slightly. Oh, of course. It was daytime. Well, it looked like she was going to be rooftop-jumping again.

On her way back to the base, she couldn't help but notice a welling feeling of dread that was beginning to pool in the bottom of her squeedlyspooch. There should have been nothing to fear, seeing as it was a request from her Tallest, but the circumstances were odd enough to raise a few internal red flags. On top of that, she had the strangest dream the night before.

Petra hadn't thought about it for too long that morning, because GIR had one of his all-too-familiar meltdowns and she had to deal with it before she left for school, but it was quite a disturbing dream. It might have even been what you'd call a nightmare.

It went a little something like this: she was sneaking around in somewhere she definitely wasn't supposed to be, when she spotted something in a glass cage. She approached it, and inside was the most grotesque thing she'd ever seen. Inside was an Irken soldier, lying on the floor, barely breathing. All of their bones seemed to be broken in some strange place. Their organs were hung up on the walls on hooks, still attached to the body and pulsing in a sickening manner, and the skin was healed around where the fleshy sacs and tubes left the body. The face of the soldier was obscured, but looking too closely to the area around the face made her feel like she was going to vomit. That's when she heard a deep voice from behind her.

"You little green scum are so obnoxious. See, we _tried_ to keep the guts on the floor, but they kept getting pulled back in! It's funny, though. Look at the puny thing- it's probably in so much pain, yet it won't make a sound!" She didn't dare turn around, but the voice was deep and dripping with malice, and the presence behind her was immensely large. Petra knew why the soldier was so silent. They had died the empty death- if the prospect of suffering is worse than death, the PAK will send out a distress signal and all of its data back to the Control Brains. After that, it purges and disconnects everything that the body doesn't need to survive on the most basic level. The body is nothing more than a doll, free of pain, free of fear. Empty, essentially. Only breathing, blinking, and barely living until the body gives out from starvation or blood loss. Whatever comes first.

After that, she felt a crushingly heavy weight land on her shoulder, and force her to turn around. All she remembered feeling before she woke up was the most intense fear and horror she'd ever experienced, and then it was over. She never even got to see that person's face.

Just the memory of it all made Petra's insides turn inside out. It was so _vivid,_ so _real_. She had no idea what it could mean, which was strange considering that nearly every dream that an Irken soldier has will have some practical meaning, and that only worsened her nervousness. _I need to let it go,_ _there's work to be done._

Soon, she saw the house getting closer and closer. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to rid herself of that horrible sense of foreboding. Still, she persisted. Before she entered the house, she made one last sweep of her PAK to ensure that all incriminating evidence was purged. Then, Petra took the plunge.

Once inside, she was greeted by a host of unfamiliar soldiers. All of them stood at attention and gave her a salute. "You, uh, don't have to salute me. I'm just a lieutenant- I'm not really all that official," she admitted, flipping her disguise and her accent off. They shook their heads and smiled.

"No, no, Lieutenant P-34! I'm Nirk, we're in the lieutenant program right now, and we've heard so much about you! You're a legend! It's so-" One of the excitable soldier's friends elbowed her hard in the stomach, and she hunched over like she was going to vomit.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. My friend is just _really_ stupid, and she gets carried away easily," the soldier apologized, taking a quick bow. "It is an honor- for all of us- to be with you today. My name is Jonk."

"I thank you for your overwhelming kindness, but there's no need to be so generous with your words. If you could tell me what exactly is going on, I'd be very appreciative," Petra replied as Jonk's fellow students ushered her into hallway.

"I wish I could tell you, m'am, but we're not authorized to know that information. The debrief has Tallest-level security clearance, so we only know to come get you." Nirk replied, a sheepish smile crossing her face. Petra noticed that she was beginning to be forced up the stairs.

When they reached the attic, the Voot Cruiser was shoved near the wall to make room for a large metal box. The doors were guarded by one very short, wide soldier and a Vortian. The Vortian had a scowl on their face and a beeping collar on their neck, and their expression only got more severe when Petra arrived in the room.

One of the students politely ushering Petra attempted to give her a gentle push in the right direction, only to find she was no longer willing to move and he knocked his head into her PAK. "Are you _sure_ that none of you have any idea what's going on here?" she asked, scanning the small crowd. They all shared worried glances, only to look back at her and shake their heads.

"We just know you need to get into that box. We've been told it's because you're precious cargo, but that's just what Nirk thinks." Jork said, and Nirk scratched the back of her head in a bashful manner.

Petra sighed and gave the box another glance before hesitantly approaching it. _I can't just question my Tallest, can I?_ With great apprehension, she stepped into the box and backed up just far enough from the door for it to close correctly. Just as the two door guards closed the door, she caught the Vortian yawning. They had their tongue cut out.

The door closed with a heavy slam, and she heard a complicated lock click loudly from the outside. Then, faintly, Petra could hear the attic rooftop beginning to open. Wait, what was going on? She felt the slightly familiar feeling of being lifted up by a tractor beam and found herself floating slightly in the dark. _What on Irk is going on?_

Outside the box, the neighbors sure had an eyeful. Directly above Zim's house hovered a large and imposing looking red ship that, if an Irken were to see it, could be identified as a Viral Tank. It was sucking up a good size metal box with a tractor beam, and then a team of little green people and a little horned grey person. Then, the top of the house closed and it zoomed off into the sky, causing a soundwave that only made a few people's ears bleed.

Petra had no idea what kind of ship that her box was inside, but she did know that she was beginning to panic. The tractor beam had stopped, meaning she was inside a ship, but the doors weren't opening. In fact, she could just barely hear the voices of the students outside. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but she recognized Nirk ask something in a worried tone. After a moment, she could identify it as, "Is she going to be okay?"

The following replies were all in a generally reassuring pitch, but she could tell from behind the thick metal that the comforters were uncertain. _BANG!_

Before she realized it herself, Petra was using her body as a battering ram to try and open the door. She frantically flung her whole being against the walls, and she could feel the panic of something beginning to invade her mind. She began to yell, to demand to know what was happening, and the guilty apologies of the students telling her that they didn't know, that they couldn't let her out were drowned out by her terrified banging. She was leaving sizable dents in the metal, but it was simply too thick for her to penetrate on her own. There was no lazer maze this time, and she was left panting and confused in the darkness of the box.

Petra backed up into a corner, and slid to the floor. She pulled her knees up to her chest and set her head down onto her arms, and closed her eyes. When she focused, she could feel the slight vibrations of the ship moving along to an unknown destination in her antennae. The hoop in her antennae swung slightly as her they involuntarily twitched, and Petra couldn't help but notice her hands begin to shake. All that she could think about was her invader. What was he going to do without her? Was he going to be okay? Would Dib go back on his promise, would he do something rash? And what about Jessica?

 _Oh my,_ she cynically laughed to herself. _What_ about _Jessica? Why on Irk am I thinking about her at a time like this?_ Still, despite her self-awareness, her mind fretted over the fate of her blonde friend. Petra worried about Mrs. Mayer, and the shadowy figures, and even GIR. She couldn't believe she was even wondering it, but was she going to see them ever again? Was Petra even going to live to remember them? In the darkness, the small box that served as her prison seemed infinitely big.

"Irk." she muttered to herself. "I hate being alone."

* * *

"Hello, who is th-"

" _DIB-WORM WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY LIEUTENANT I SWEAR ON THE TALLEST I WILL-_ "

"Wait, Zim?" Dib looked at the phone in his hand in disbelief. "How did you even get this number?"

"THAT MATTERS NOT! Tell me what you have done with my Petra at ONCE!" Zim screeched into the receiver. While seeing him in a panic was funny, Dib hadn't done anything this time. Gaz's brow furrowed, as they were walking home and she was several feet back, and she could hear Zim through the phone.

"Well, I haven't seen 'your' Petra since gym. She disappeared and didn't show up to class afterwards. Didn't she come home?" Dib asked. He didn't know quite why he was humoring Zim, seeing as she could have just literally gone to the store, but it was a little weird.

"What do you mean 'my'- oh. Whatever, Petra did not come home, and she didn't say anything. She _always_ tells me exactly where she is, and I can't find her PAK signal, so tell Zim where you have hidden her!" the alien screeched. On the other line, his worry was apparent, and while he expressed it in a very Zim way, the worry itself was uncharacteristic.

"Look, Petra's much stronger than you. It really isn't feasible that anyone besides maybe your alien overlords or whatever could capture her, so I'm sure she's probably fine. In fact, I bet she's still in your gross lair!" Dib teased, but instead of blind rage he received a much softer reaction.

"I've looked everywhere, I've tried calling her, I've tried everything! She isn't _here_ Dib-worm, so she must be with _you._ "

"Oh my God, Zim, Petra isn't here! I'm coming over there right now just to prove you wrong. We're gonna find her sitting on the couch or something, I just know it. I'll be there in ten minutes," Dib growled, and hung up the phone. "Hey Gaz, do you want to go over to Zim's lair and prove him wrong?"

Gaz, who had caught up with her brother to see what the ruckus was about, looked at him with a curious expression. "How good are the chances that you're going to get hurt?"

"Well, considering it's me and Zim, they're pretty good."

"Alright, fair enough. Let's go."

Fifteen minutes later, Dib, Zim, and Gaz were standing in the middle of the defective invader's subterranean lab. The Irken in question was speed-walking around in a mild panic, picking things up and putting things down. GIR was just barely audibly screaming about something a few rooms over. The boy was boasting about something, and his sister was growing bored.

As she looked around the lab for something that might be a nice blunt weapon, she saw a freeze frame of two very lanky looking aliens on a huge screen. Curiously, Gaz pressed the large button in the middle of the console and everyone froze and looked at the screen as soon as the aliens began to speak. They were giggling and nudging each other like middle-schoolers in a Sex Ed class.

"Hey _Invader_ -pfft, ahem. Invader Zim," the red one began.

Dib glanced over at his enemy to see all the color drained from his face. Apparently, he had been in such a rush that he had forgotten to check the largest monitor in the room.

"It's us, your alien, uh, overlords, I guess," continued the purple one.

 _Well. Shit._

(A/N: Yeah, I know. It's 5:00 AM. I have something to show for my procrastination, though! I read all of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac today and made some art that I personally kind of like. I don't know what I'll think in two years, but I digress. Don't check it out if blood/knives bother you at all, and do check it out if you love me. Can you love me? Debatable. Anyways, as always thank you for reading and please leave a review so I can improve.

It won't let me put a link so just put borgerman/./tumblr/./com [ignore the slashes] and then put post/177678106604/hey-so-i-finally-sat-down-and-read-the-entire-jthm at the end. You'll find the art and my tumblr, yay.)


	14. Gut Feeling

Min struggled to remember how many cycles it had been since her top experiment had accidentally been sent out to serve under that idiot invader. She hadn't slept in quite a while, and while that was normally no issue, the amount of information and pressure she soaked in every day was beginning to jumble her thoughts. She sighed, and leaned back in her chair to stare upwards.

The lab was busier than ever, and she could see smallers and tallers alike rushing around above her, scampering around on catwalks with their arms full of paperwork and snacks. The outward facing walls and ceiling of her office were made of one-way glass, and Min had found herself looking out of them more and more often. Blankly, she would stare outside thinking of nothing until she got yet another transmission, or someone burst in with more paperwork to fill out. It was always something more, something else to do. Truly, she had nothing left to give.

The head scientist shook it off as she received a transmission. She sighed, and accepted it. "Praise be to the Tallest, Scientist Min!"

"Brilow, you don't have to be so formal. We've discussed this, it's so uncomfortable!"

"You _did_ make fun of my height last week, so I think it's fair enough," Brilow replied. She was sitting in her office. She _could_ have just walked over, but even though it was only one ship the Massive was… well, Massive. It would have taken much too long, and they were both important people. "So, how soon until P-34 gets back onto the ship? I heard it took Invader Zim months to get to Ee-arth."

"It's pronounced Earth, and you know that."

"But isn't it so much more fun to say Ee-arth?" Brilow leaned into the camera and flashed a cheeky smile.

"...You have way too much time on your hands. In any case, that's because Zim drives that grubby little Voot Cruiser. P-34 should arrive in a few hours. We picked it up in a Viral Tank, so the ship can just take a wormhole over." Suddenly, Min heard a familiar beep above her and a stack of paperwork shot out of a tube and fell onto her desk. "Oh, come on."

"It's funny that in such a technologically advanced society we're still so dependent on paper. Remember how you used to call me a 'dull witted pencil pusher' fifty odd years ago because you got to go out and perform experiments? Oh, how the turntables," Brilow laughed to herself, propping her feet up onto her much clearer desk.

"Hey, I'm still head scientist!" Min exclaimed, picking out a black pen to start filling things out. "Once this whole lieutenant thing rolls over I can go back to doing real work, and not this cubicle garbage. And _you'll_ still be pushing pencils."

"Hey, hey, don't get touchy. Keep in mind that I have control over nearly a third of our population. Manager of the service drone division is a much better gig than it used to be- I mean, I used to spend every minute signing incident reports and taking calls from idiots. Now I just sit in board meetings, and while that's mind numbing, it's better than losing circulation to my fingers every cycle," Brilow admitted. When she noticed that Min didn't respond, she couldn't help but furrow her brow.

"They're really putting the weight on you for this whole fiasco, aren't they? It's that drone's fault, not yours. If anything, this should be on me. Well, it should be on the manager of the local postal service drone division, but he works under me all the same." Min shot her a look, as if to say 'yeah, this _is_ your fault'. "Look, big shot, how about I just send you a couple of spare paperwork drones. I'm sure there's plenty of drones with nothing to do that you could dump your load onto. You need a break."

Min sighed. "You'd do that?"

"'Course I would. Here, let me send a few now," Brilow turned her head away and spoke quietly into her earpiece. "Send some free paperwork drones down to the head scientist's office in the lab. No, on the Massive you dolt, Min isn't on Irk. Yeah, that's all for now… you have a question? You- you want to form a union? You _do_ know that forming a union is traitorous and will be met with a death penalty, right? Oh my Tallest, how did you not know that?! Disassemble it before I disassemble _you._ Go back to work."

Min couldn't help but let out a weak chuckle. Brilow might not ever be busy, but everyone knew that dealing with drones all day was a job you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. She glanced down at the live feed of the box that contained P-34. The feed was beginning to worsen in quality, as it usually did when the ship entered a wormhole. It was curled up in the corner of the container, silent. This idea the Tallest had about just taking the experiment wasn't going to end well, but there was no way to refuse their orders.

"Alright," Brilow sighed. "You should be getting those drones down in a few. I know for a fact the paperwork drones can read, so I don't know why on Irk they'd form a union. Anyways, I've been meaning to ask- why are y'all bringing P-34 back in the first place? Didn't it already imprint?"

"Where did you learn to say 'y'all'?"

"Saw it in an old Vortian drama. Answer my question."

"Why did you- oh, whatever. It already imprinted, yes, and it's been on Earth for quite some time. I can't imagine how that puny little invader is dealing with the recalling of his lieutenant. I mean, if I got tempted with an experiment like that only to have it taken away… Well, I don't know what I'd do." Min looked up to see a couple of paperwork drones scuttling down some steps. Were those hers?

"I don't know, that lieutenant is probably as egotistical as its invader. Sounds obnoxious if you ask me."

"Isn't our entire race full of themselves? Like, that's kind of our thing." The two Irkens looked at each other in complete silence before bursting out laughing. In the middle of their very nice bonding moment, Min heard a knock on the door. It was about seven service drones- of course they sent the wrong amount. "I think those are mine- I'll see you at that officials meeting later?"

Brilow groaned, but nodded. "I mean, I'll gladly go as long as you're there. You make even a board meeting pleasant." Min frowned and shook her head disapprovingly.

"There's something wrong with you, I just know it."

"Don't make me take the drones back!" Min glanced at the sizable stack of paperwork still remaining on her desk and gulped.

"Sorry, sorry."

* * *

Petra heard the crinkle of someone stepping on the empty wrappers that laid on the floor of her container. Someone had thrown some food into a slot in the door for her a couple hours ago, but she hadn't heard anything since. She could feel the presence of people standing in front of her, but the lieutenant didn't even bother to look up. Something felt horribly, horribly wrong.

"Come along P-34, there's no need to be obstinate. The Tallest have been waiting a long time for you to arrive, you know." a vaguely familiar voice chided. Petra glared upwards to see the head scientist, Min, standing above her.

"No thank you." Petra replied quietly, stubbornly holding her knees in even tighter. "I think it would be best if I stayed here, actually."

"Don't be a smeet. Get up." the scientist scorned, flicking the lieutenant brand on her experiment's forehead. Petra flinched, and let out a sharp growl.

"I want to stay here."

Min frowned and rested her hands on her hips. _How juvenile,_ she thought. _I know that P-34 is smarter than this._ The scientist leaned down and snatched up the arm of the lieutenant. "Come on. This isn't a game- agh!"

Petra grabbed onto the pesky Irken's hand, and yanked her sharply downwards, causing her to fall to her knees and come face-to-face with her charge. "You're right, m'am. It's not a game, because I'm not playing around."

"You are aware that if you continue with your disobedience, the Tallest will probably just take it out on Invader Zim," Min sneered after recovering from the slight shock. She felt the grip of the charge's hand tighten, but she stood up nonetheless. Min sighed and dusted off her lab coat. "Now that wasn't very hard, was it?"

Petra scowled. She felt the scientist clamp arm restraints and a neck brace onto her, and didn't complain. From what she remembered, this is just how they treated sentient experiments while uncontained on important ships- as a safety precaution. At least _something_ from her past could be confirmed as the truth.

The journey across the Massive was strangely unfamiliar. Over the course of the months on Earth, Petra had grown unaccustomed to the tight squeeze of Irken hallways, the dim overhead lights, and the way your footsteps always sounded light and hollow on metal floors. It was home, but it didn't feel like it anymore. Even trying to put her mind back into Irken time was a bit of a struggle.

Finally, they arrived at the medical bay. It was mostly empty, seeing as the Massive hadn't been anything but an Irk-away-from-Irk for a long time, and there wasn't any fighting that normally happened on board. Min lead her charge to a back office, where she unshackled her and sat her down on a very uncomfortable chair.

"We're going to do a vital scan before we send you off, so sit still and open your PAK ports." Min demanded, and a thick cable lowered down from the ceiling. Grudgingly, Petra did as she was told, and once more felt the uncomfortable sensation of her whole being being rifled through like a junk drawer. She felt the digital probe hit on the brain lock, and tensed up as a dull pain welled up in her skull, but it only lingered for a moment before moving on. "Don't make that face. I don't want you to be here either."

"You know, I tried to tell the mighty Tallest that lieutenant PAKs could only imprint once, but they had their own plans. No matter how much I told them that it was dangerous to even try this, they didn't listen. So, you're not here because of me. If I was holding the reins, you wouldn't have landed on Ee-arth in the first place!" Min vented.

"... Do you mean Earth?"

"What did I..? Oh. Sorry. I picked up a bad habit from someone I know."

"Can you tell me why I'm here?" Petra pleaded as the cable ejected itself from her PAK and withdrew into the ceiling. "I want to know when I can go back home- I mean, to Earth."

"Vitals are all good, the hormone balance is a little iffy but that's within acceptable parameters… Oh, I didn't know that no one mentioned anything. That's just poor hospitality, isn't it? You're going to Tetrox. You know, I think a pthalo-cessamine intravenous drip might be beneficial right now, your live scans are starting to get a little weird." The blood in Petra's veins slammed to a halt as she felt her extremities begin to go numb.

"Y-you mean, permanently?" she stammered.

"Um, duh," the scientist scoffed in reply. "You still belong to Invader Skutch, even if you imprinted on that defective airlock-fodder Zim. I want to do a physical before we put you in cryo, just to be safe-"

The loud noise of a chair tumbling to the floor echoed through the office as Petra scrambled out of her chair and tightly squeezed onto her captor's shoulders. "N-no! You can't do that, what is my invader going to do without me?"

"Zim will be fine. He was fine before you came, so what makes you so sure he'll fall apart without you? Look, this is a fine opportunity for your skills to be fully realized," Min cooed. Petra felt sick to her squeedlyspooch. "You can finally be recognized as the super-Irken you are, and maybe I'll even get a promotion," she added, soothingly patting the top of her experiment's head.

"He might not need me, but I need _him_ \- er, I mean, lieutenants can't can imprint twice, you know that. I'll deactivate myself before I ever get to that planet." she threatened, tightening her already uncomfortable grip.

"Didn't I just say I know that? You're incapable of imprinting twice, but there's nothing I can do about it. It's what our Tallest want, and they do what's good for the empire," Min replied, squirming slightly until the lieutenant got the hint and released her.

"Come on, you must have some kind of sway in the decisions! I mean, the Tallest are intelligent, so they _must_ know that this won't work, right?"

"They get the final say, P-34. Just follow directions," she demanded. "Has being on Earth really dulled your obedient instincts that much? Fascinating…"

The scientist nodded to herself and scribbled something out onto a nearby holo screen before pushing a protesting Petra into a neighboring room. It was white tile from floor to ceiling with a single drain in the center of the floor, and several shower heads on the walls and ceiling. Trying to dig her feet into the tile and stop herself was useless because of how slippery it was, and she clung to the doorframe like a cat who didn't want a bath. "No! No, I'm not going in there! I want to go back to Earth!"

"You belong to the empire, not Earth! Quit acting like a smeet! Why won't you- ugh, let go of the door!" No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't move that stubborn Irken into the room. Suddenly, she had a very stupid, very effective idea.

"Zim is in there!"

"Wait, what?" Reflexively, Petra loosened her grip on the door and with one hard kick she tumbled to the slick ceramic floor and landed right on her face. With no time to spare, the automatic door slammed itself shut. "Hey! Let me out before I come out there and scramble your brains!"

 _It sounds a little bit like Brilow,_ Min thought, but a chill of fear shot down her spine when she began to hear the banging on the other side of the door. _At least I'm not in there with it._

The monitor displayed live feed of the room that housed the lieutenant, without audio. She ceased the banging on the door for a moment before looking straight at the camera and beginning to shout.

Curious, Min flipped the audio feed on.

"-if I had more than three fingers on each hand I would flip you off! Why do you assholes keep locking me in rooms? Why is there a camera in a bathroom? I swear on the Tallest I'm going to come out there and-"

Min turned the audio feed off.

It didn't make too much of a difference, as Petra had stopped speaking Standard and was yelling in a really weird mixture of Old Irken and some guttural human language. Still, she made some very convincing and threatening gestures that didn't quite set the scientist at ease. Min sighed and pressed the button on the intercom.

"I'm turning on the jets. If you like those weird clothes you should probably take them off, the gel really wreaks havoc on fabrics. You're going to have to be transported nude, anyway."

Despite the warning, Petra continued to curse and scream in frustration fully clothed when the shower turned on. Gel spewed from the walls and ceiling and all over the lieutenant, who for the most part ignored it until her clothes began to turn into an acidic goo. She silently howled in pain and threw them off, having to remove melted bits of her sweatshirt and jean skirt off with her hands. Then she yelled so loudly Min heard her from behind the metal door.

That's when things started to actually go wrong.

Inside the room, Petra was beginning to spiral. _I'm never going back home. I'm never going to see my invader again. Oh my Tallest. No, no, no, this can't be happening. I need to get back. He needs me. I… I need to protect him._ Something clicked in her head in that moment, and she stopped feeling sick. Now, she was filled with another overwhelming emotion.

 _BANG!_ Min leapt out of her chair and looked at the door in pure horror. The door that only a few moments ago kept the experiment safely out of the office had an enormous dent in it. She spun around to look back at the live feed and almost screamed at what she saw.

The experiment was bouncing off the walls, shattering the tile and ruining the shower heads. Her face was dark and unreadable, and with a simple ocular scan it was easy to see that her hormone balance had gone from slightly anxious to a bloodlust stronger than the Irken desire to conquer the universe. Min scrambled to open the emergency Tallest line, and it rang three times before they picked up.

"What is it _now,_ Min?" Tallest Red mumbled, stuffing a donut in his mouth. Purple didn't even bother to look at the camera.

"P-34 has become extremely unstable, I still don't think that this is the best course of action-"

"Oh, the thing got here. Can't you tell it to stop?"

"N-no, my Tallest, its lieutenant programming is causing it to be extremely aggressive-" There was a loud crashing noise in the background and Min became visibly more distressed. "It's beginning to pose a threat!"

"Look, we just got a transmission from Zim- he was so panicked, Irk it was hilarious- and he's going to be here in like an hour. How about you do that uh, PAK rewire thing?"

"... Do you mean the temporary PAK rewire? That's only going to last a day." There was a louder shattering noise. "Make that a few hours. Maybe we should just- oh my Tallest," Min whispered under her breath.

"Oh my us, what are you muttering about?" Silently she turned the live feed towards the camera and Tallest Red let out a shocked exhale at the sight. "Oh. Well. That wasn't really an intended feature, was it?"

"My Tallest, I _urge_ you to reconsider this. It will calm down if it can go back to Earth."

"No. Our decision is final. Do the rewire and we'll just ship it out before it can return to normal. Then it's Invader Skutch's problem. Send it to the really big intimidating room when you're done, we're gonna sit on the big chairs and look cool so that when we record it to laugh at later Zim looks even smaller than normal," Red added, nudging his codictator with his elbow. "Those are our orders."

The line went dead and Min sighed. There was no reason to have developed the super lieutenant program if the only fully functioning genetically engineered lieutenant would just be thrown away like this. Reluctantly she pulled a floating holo screen down and opened the executable file for the TPW. Another loud bang echoed out of the gel room and Min swallowed nervously. _This is a_ horrible _idea._

She hit execute and turned the audio on the live feed back on. Nothing happened for a minute, and Petra continued to screech and curse for a solid minute before the distinct noise of a PAK being forcibly ported and a loud scream came through. Then, there was silence.

 _You know, I really don't get paid enough for this._

* * *

"Why did you need to go warp speed, Zim?! I know you unlocked Tak's ship, but we had no idea how well it worked or the effect on humans!" Dib complained, stepping out of the Spittle Runner and straightening his collar out. His sister got out right behind him, stoically taking in the bustling Irken society around them.

"If you had died it would have been two stones with one bird, Dib-worm."

"Two birds with one stone. You don't throw birds at rocks." Gaz mumbled. "Idiot."

A porter hustled over and took the keys from Dib and gestured to the elevator that would take them out of the Massive's parking dock. The boy opened his mouth to ask a ton of presumably annoying questions before his sister dragged him off. "Gaz, you're in an actual alien ship and you're not even curious? Are you human?"

She shrugged. Truthfully, neither of the children should have been there. Dib peer pressured a very panicked Zim into letting him go along, and Gaz went because she didn't want to do her homework. Once they got to the elevator, the obese doorman gave Zim one look and grimaced.

"You here to see the Tallest?" he mumbled in a gravelly tone.

"Yes, Zim is here to speak personally with the esteemed Tallest. There was a big misunderstanding and Zim just needs to clear things up," he replied. Even when he was in a rush he found time to brag.

"They're waiting in the really big room with the chairs."

"The really tall intimidating ones?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Man, I love that room," Zim muttered to himself as the doorman selected the level and the doors closed. While her brother was excitedly pestering the doorman with questions, Gaz was suspiciously considering the situation. Zim seemed to think that he was going to get Pearl or whoever back, but from what she'd seen before most people hated Zim. It was way more likely that he was going to be emotionally crushed. The girl smirked to herself. _That would be way more fun than math homework._

Dib was in heaven the whole time. He loved seeing the aliens running around on the way to see the Tallest, and quickly caught onto the hierarchy of heights. All of the little aliens ran to get places, and made way for those taller than them who took their time to get places. He was almost disappointed when they made it to the room, but he found himself totally fascinated by the leaders of the Irken empire.

"Zim! Come in here and stand inside this rectangle before you say anything. You're out of frame right now." Tallest Purple said, pointing to the lightly outlined area below their giant chairs. On the way, Zim had explained that the purple one was Tallest Purple and the red one was Tallest Red. Unoriginal, but easy to remember. He also explained that they were basically the dictators of half the universe, which was a little anxiety inducing, but Dib did his best to push that down.

"M-my Tallest! Your message said that Petra- I mean, P-34 would be taken away to Tetrox. Zim is sure that this is all a misunderstanding and my lieutenant can be returned swiftly," he said, laughing nervously. "Where is she, if I may ask?"

"Oh, it's right here. Get over here, P-34." Tallest Red waved his hand and the quiet sound of footsteps heralded an entirely shocking sight.

She was Petra, no doubt. She had the freckles, the teeth, the lieutenant brand, and the piercing. All of it was her, except for the fact that she now had an extra set of arms and her eyes were a brilliant red. The outfit from earlier that day was gone and she was dressed in a tight, dark uniform. All of the scars on her original set of arms were there, but just below them was a set of brand new ones lightly sprinkled with freckles.

"...Huh."

"Yeah, we souped it up. It's sick, right?" Purple bragged. "You don't have to answer that. We already know."

"O-of course. She looks very, um, menacing. Can we discuss the matter of her coming home, now?" Zim inquired, pulling impatiently on the bottom of his uniform. Red nudged Purple and they both stifled laughter.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, P-34, do you want to return to Earth with Zim? Or do you want to go to Tetrox?" Purple asked casually.

"I wish to appease you and go where you want me, my mighty Tallest." Petra replied without missing a beat. Purple frowned.

"And we want you to go to Tetrox."

"Correct."

"So you don't want to go with Zim?"

"C-c-correct." she stammered, and she sounded like she couldn't breathe. However, she continued to blankly stare at the back wall with no emotion.

"Well, there you have it! How do you feel? Wait, hold on," A mic stand rose up from the ground right in front of Zim and adjusted itself to his height (or lack thereof). "Say it into the microphone. I don't think the camera is going to pick it up from all the way down there."

Zim was pulling so hard on his tunic it looked like it might rip. "P-34, y-you come down here right now! How dare you disobey the mighty ZIM!" Right in the middle of his name his voice cracked ever so slightly, and his braggart facade was beginning to crumble as his antennae began to quiver. Petra stayed motionless on the tall platform.

The Tallest were barely able to conceal their laughter as they watched the invader before them struggle to yell and fuss at his normal caliber. Dib rolled his eyes and shoved Zim out of the way, pulling the mic out of the stand and holding it.

"Hey, so I made a deal with P-34, or whatever you call her, that I could learn anything I wanted about aliens and Irkens. If she's going to leave Earth, does this mean Zim is going to have to answer my questions? You can just give me access to your alien intergalactic internet so I can research it myself, and save you the trouble of getting him to cooperate." Petra visibly locked up.

"Hey, don't push Zim around like that. Now he's out of frame," Red huffed. "And what are you even talking about? P-34, did you make a deal like that?"

Petra swallowed hard. "Yes."

"What?! Why did you sign away the privacy of our empire and the whole universe to some human smaller? Are you stupid or something?!" Red slammed a gauntlet onto the armrest of his seat. "I don't care about that deal. It's off."

"You can't just do that! She said if someone breaks the promise then by your laws they have to be killed. Are you telling me that whole blood-insignia-clicking thing was a lie?"

"Blood insignia clicking promise…? Wait, you don't mean- P-34!" Purple roared. "Why on Irk would you make _that_ deal with something like _him?_ "

Dib watched this display of outrage in fascination. So she _hadn't_ been lying after all. He hadn't thought that she'd get into this much trouble for it, though. But, then again, he didn't really expect that this whole situation would be playing out.

"It was for his protection, my Tallest." she choked. Her voice was getting more and more restrained as time passed.

"Him? The kid? Why would you want to protect him?"

"What? No, not Dib. I did it to protect Zi- I did it for Z-Z-Zi-" Every time she made a 'z' sound it became more choppy and painful.

Red groaned and rubbed his temples. _It still can't even say Zim's name. We have to wrap this up before something goes wrong._

"I'm just gonna cut this out in post," he muttered before raising his voice. "Look, we don't have time to deal with this, so we're just gonna kill you, okay? Alright."

Dib let out a squeak of shock as a robotic arm shot out from the ceiling, snatching him up and lifting him several feet off the ground. Banging his hands on the claw and kicking his feet didn't do him any good, and he cried out, "You're breaking the promise! Isn't your culture all about loyalty?!"

"We have loyalty to no one. We're tall," Purple bragged, before casting his gaze down at the quivering invader below. "Oh, let's just get it out of the way. Zim too." A similar looking claw clamped around his torso and pulled him up into the air and he could only let out a breathless shriek.

"Oh for- Gaz! I know we've had our disagreements but I need your help!" Dib exclaimed, leaning over the side of the claw to glance downward at her. She stayed quiet and looked up with a stoic face. "Come on, this isn't the time to be messing around. I'm your _brother_ , for Christ's sake, _please!"_

A third claw had been hovering nearby, a few feet away, and Gaz gave it a malicious glare. It jumped slightly and retracted back into the ceiling. The Tallest shared a look and shrugged, and Gaz returned to her pattern of thought.

 _What if I just let him die,_ she wondered as her brother started to shout. _I mean the house would be a lot quieter. Dad might get mad, but there's always the chance he'd forget about it… I could just rid myself of Dib and Zim at the same time and get his room as a gaming space._

She looked up at her brother, who was now pleading with the Tallest as they monologued over him. Shockingly, Zim was quiet. Instead of screeching like a banshee at every opportunity like normal, he was just staring at Petra like a really ugly sad puppy. Gaz hadn't seen anything but Petra's human form at this point, but she felt it was safe to assume that the four-armed freak of nature standing like a statue was her. Even setting aside the whole alien overlord ship deal, everyone was acting (and looking) so strangely today.

" _Gaz!_ Quit it, I'm serious! You would just let me die, are you kidding me right now? We're like a year apart and blood siblings and you would _still_ not want to save me in a life or death situation?!" Dib cried out in frustration, and his glasses started to slip off his nose. Purple let out a sharp laugh, and shook his head as if to say 'humans are so stupid'.

Could she let him die? She glanced back up at Petra. She was staring ahead, but the girl had a penchant for reading people, and could easily see what was going on behind the surface. Her face was perfectly unchanging, but there was more to it. Suddenly, a story the Professor had told her once inserted itself into Gaz's train of thought.

* * *

 _The car was dark and the road was all but empty. It was nearly four in the morning and the Professor still insisted on driving himself home from the lab, but he wasn't alone this time. The streetlamps illuminated his face in flashes, and even underneath his lab coat and goggles it was plain to see that he was exhausted. He hadn't been home in days, and he had a nanny taking care of his one-year-old son at home. To be honest, he wasn't even sure if she was at the house anymore. The world seemed surreal to his sleep-deprived eyes and in that moment whether his infant child was alone or not didn't really matter._

 _What did matter, though, was the baby strapped into a carseat on the passenger side, watching him with an eerie intensity. She had only been "born" a few hours ago, but she still watched him with eyes that knew exactly how he felt. It was a little scary, but he expected nothing less. He knew from the moment he saw her that she was going to be absolutely extraordinary._

 _The Professor pulled into the garage and carefully unbuckled his daughter from her seat before entering the house. It was empty, and dark, but he could hear faint noises coming from his son's nursery. Silently, he made his way there and creaked the door open. The window of the room was wide open, and the only light in the room was the glow of the streetlamps. Dib was sitting on the ground just below it, using the light to read one of his father's books about thermonuclear fusion in the cores of stars, and he had his tiny boombox quietly playing some random AM station rife with static._

 _When he noticed who was at the door, he split into a wide grin and dropped his book to come running. The Professor couldn't help but smile as his son tugged on the bottom of his lab coat, and ushered him back inside._

" _Dibble, where did the nanny go?"_

" _She went to the store two days ago. I think there's a big wait." For his age, Dib was surprisingly articulate and was only held back by his lack of teeth. He was an outrageously gifted child, just like his father, and started speaking at only a few months after his "birth", starting in complete sentences. He even skipped crawling in favor of toddling about, and when asked why, he said that it was faster. Despite all that, though, he was just as naive about the world as you'd expect a one-year-old to be._

" _There was food in the 'fridgerator, though, so it's okay. Hey Daddy, who's that?" Dib derailed his train of thought to point at the infant in his father's arms. She had been staring down at him in an ambivalent manner, not even bothering to cry or fuss._

 _The Professor made a mental note to file a lawsuit against the nanny and sat down in the rocking chair near the still-ajar window. His son waddled up to him and rested his head against his knee, feeling the breeze roll in from outside. It smelled like it was going to rain._

" _This is your little sister. Her name is Gazlene- I think we should call her Gaz, for short," he explained, gently turning the baby to look her brother in the face._

" _Hello Gaz. My name is Dibble, but you can call me Dib if you want. I'm your big brother." He extended his little hand and seemed almost offended when the newborn didn't shake it. The Professor chuckled._

" _She's not like you, yet. She can't walk, or talk. You and I were like that too once, but I was like that a long time ago."_

" _She can't even read?"_

" _Not yet. She'll catch up to you mentally very soon, but physically she will still be small," The Professor unbuttoned the top of his lab coat and pulled off his goggles to show his full face. "That means you're going to have to protect her when she can't protect herself, okay?"_

" _Like a superhero?"_

" _There are no superheroes, Dib, but yes. She's going to be very special, just like you, and just like me. It's going to be hard when you get older because you two won't be like the other children, no matter how hard you try. But that's why I wanted two children- you're always going to have each other. As long as you keep her safe, you'll never have to worry about being lonely," He reached out and tousled the growing severe cowlick on his son's head. "And with you two around, neither will I."_

 _Dib giggled and clambered up into his father's lap. After some general toddler conversation, he ended up fast asleep. The Professor couldn't help but feel the same drowsiness come over him too, and he wondered whether it was time for him to put the kids in their cribs and go to sleep. Next to Dib, Gaz was also asleep and she nestled into her father's chest as she slumbered. Every time he told this story to Gaz in the future, he would always end it the same exact way with the same exact thought that he'd never forget._

 _He looked out the window and watched the rain begin to sprinkle gently down onto the ground._ So this what love is supposed to be, _he thought._ I never thought it would be this warm.

 _The next morning he and the children woke up, soaked with rainwater, in the rocking chair._

* * *

Gaz frowned. Was this really the time to get sentimental? She looked once more at her spastically kicking sibling and let out a sigh. Dad wasn't going to forget about it, and as much as she hated to admit it neither would she. Dib wasn't going to die, not today.

"Hey P-34, how do you feel about Zim?" she called out. The Tallest paused at the unexpected interruption, but Red smirked.

"Yeah, how do you feel about Zim? If you can't put the emotion into words you can rate him on a scale of negative infinity to zero," Purple caught onto the opportunity and Petra frowned slightly. Zim watched with highly attentive eyes.

"I consider him to be… um. He is… He is a de- rather, he is a f…" She struggled and stumbled over every word, a pained expression beginning to form in traces on her face as she spoke.

"A failure? A fiasco? Or, wait, when you started that did you mean to say that he was defec-" Red smacked the side of his coleader's chair with his gauntlet and gestured towards the experiment who was beginning to tremble slightly. He shook his head and jerked her shoulder so that she faced backwards.

"Okay, I've had enough. I'm getting tired of this. Let's wrap this all up and get that lieutenant packed up and shipped out! Woo!" Red cheered, clapping his hands together. Gaz let out an annoyed grunt and trudged over to stand underneath her brother.

She pulled something small out of her pocket and before the Tallest could process it, she had shot the cable and sent it and her brother hurtling towards the ground. The claw itself landed with a loud clang, but Gaz caught Dib safely before he could become a Jackson Pollock piece on the floor.

"Oh I knew you'd come through, Gaz, even if it did take you an uncomfortably long period of time!" Dib cheered, and his sister promptly dropped him on the ground.

"Stupid story," she muttered.

"Hey, don't damage Irken empire property like that! Foreigners have no respect for culture, do they?" Purple complained. Before he could continue and call in more claws there was a quiet sound he couldn't identify. "Red, did you say something?"

"No, what are you..?"

"He is…" Petra was no longer standing at attention, and her arms hung limply at her side. She blinked a few times and shook her head. "He is a friend…"

When she turned her head to look at the Tallest with wide purple eyes filled with mild confusion, Red let out a very masculine squeak and scrambled over his partner to use both chairs as a barrier between him and the imagined threat. She didn't go nuts again, though, and instead she just looked at her arms and muttered to herself. "How did I…?"

After fully turning around she looked down and saw Dib and Gaz staring up at her before trailing her eyes up to see… "Sir?" she said softly, almost incredulously. There was a single moment of silence where ruby eyes met heather purple ones, but it didn't last long.

" _Sir!"_

Petra immediately leapt off the Tallest's platform and catapulted straight into her invader, knocking him out of the grasp of the claw and using her own body as a cushion when they hit the ground below, landing smack in the middle of the rectangle and causing the mic stand to crash onto the ground.

There wasn't any time to register it before Zim was lying on the ground with his all four of his lieutenant's arms wrapped tightly around him. Her words were spilling out and falling onto one another, interspersed with moments of hysterical laughter, almost as if she couldn't pick exactly what to tell him first. She nuzzled her forehead into the crook of his neck and her embrace was almost as bone crushing as the fall would have been uncushioned.

Zim turned a darker emerald shade and gave out loud commands that were lost in her jumbled apologies, and tried to squirm out of her vice-like grip. He didn't make much progress, though, and even though he wouldn't have gotten out of her grasp anyway, Dib speculated long after the trip that he hadn't made much of an actual effort.

Suddenly, an Irken in a lab coat burst in through the main entrance. She had rounded antennae and dark amethyst eyes, and seemed to be very much in a panic. "My Tallest, I have detected that P-34 has broken out of the rewire much earlier than anticipa- oh," she paused when she saw the scene before her.

"Yes, Min, we're very much aware of that," Red hissed, still crouching behind the armrest of his codictator's chair. Despite the intrusion, Petra didn't even bother to look up to see who was there and Min watched unsurprised at the very not Irken display of affection.

"Well it's definitely stable now," Min concluded after a quick ocular scan. "Just as I suspected. The effects of the destabilization should wear off in a few hours- that is, if you choose to allow her to remain with Zim, my Tallest."

They were both glaring, but they were definitely listening. "Tallest only huddle?" Red whispered.

"Tallest only huddle." The pair turned towards each other and huddled up, speaking so quietly no one could hear but them. "There's too many people involved in this. I say we just kill them all."

"We can't just kill them all, Purp, we have an image. If we kill Zim everybody is going to be like 'yeah, cool' and move on. A couple foreigners and nobody will bat an eye. But the top lieutenant and our head scientist? That can't be explained away by a low blood sugar mood."

"Our image with the soldiers will be fine."

"Not with the soldiers, you idiot, with our allies. And if we just start killing important people and breaking _the promise_ the Control Brains are gonna be riding us like a motherirker. You know what we gotta do."

Purple groaned and from outside the huddle he could be heard whining, but it seemed it was settled. "Everyone stand here and receive your orders," he fussed.

With slight hesitation and confusion, everyone gathered in the center of the rectangle and looked up. "No one is to discuss what happened here today. Ever. If anyone asks, then they don't have clearance to know, and what rank they are doesn't matter. I don't care. P-34 will be sent back to Earth with Zim and he will continue to send written reports on his progress with planetary conquest daily. P-34 will conduct a transmission with Min every week to ensure its health, and the deal it made still stands. That is all."

The group exchanged glances and Red furrowed his brow. "Go on! I'm hungry, get out of here." As they left, Gaz looked back and saw that Petra was still quietly murmuring and smiling to Zim, who was trying to mask his relief and doing so poorly. Dib nudged her.

"Hey, how did you know that was going to work?" She ignored him and read Zim's lips in the midst of he and and his lieutenant's conversation. Petra had one arm around his shoulders, and the other one on the same side holding onto his hand tightly. When Gaz read his mouth, it looked like he said something along the lines of ' _When did you get so warm?'._

Gaz turned back to her brother who was slightly miffed at being ignored.

"I think it was a gut feeling."

(A/N: I'm sorry for the sudden week-long hiatus, I tried to make this chapter long to compensate. I had some big problems getting this written, but what is done is done. I'll see what other quickie chapters I can shit out this week to appease the two (very lovely) people who regularly read this story. Did y'all enjoy my Soft Gaz? I would Die for the Soft Gaz that loves her family deep down. Sorry if it seems out of place, I just hc that one particular scene really hard and I live and die for some quality Dad Membrane content. Also, he's basically my dad too and I wanted some quality father-daughter bonding time. I also hc that after Gaz is 6 months old both children stop calling him 'Daddy' because one of them figured out how some freaky adults use it and decided to start calling him 'Dad' instead. Dad Membrane never figures out why, lol. Anyway, see y'all later, and please leave a review and drop some love for me, I could use it atm and also I wanna improve! Thank you so much, as always.)


	15. C'mon and Slam! And Welcome to the Jam!

The trip back home was quiet. Petra still had her extra arms when she dropped Dib and Gaz off at their house, and the siblings could wordlessly sense each other's exhaustion. Standing in their backyard, they could see the sun beginning to creep over the fence and they watched with droopy eyes. "I'm skipping. Tell Dad I'm sick," Gaz declared in a gruff voice, and promptly walked into the house. Dib glanced back at her for a brief moment before sighing and looking back into the sunrise.

 _I have a quiz today, don't I?_ he thought, trudging inside and into his room. The clock on his nightstand read 7:02- he had a solid hour and a half before he had to be at school. His bed was gently calling his name, but the folder of unfinished homework on his desk happened to be screaming much louder. Begrudgingly, Dib settled down in his office chair and managed to finish in time to take a cold shower and start his walk to school.

The brisk early November wind nipped at Dib's noticeably bare neck, and he wished that he hadn't forgotten his trench coat at home. It wasn't all that cold, he was just particularly sensitive to the cold and his trench coat was thick enough that it often kept his hands from their usual freezing temperature. The walk was one he had travelled for years, though, and it thankfully went by quickly. He arrived somewhat earlier than intended, and as he took his seat in the classroom he gave the whole room a once-over.

Most students hadn't yet arrived, and there were students from other classes mingling and mixing with one another, and the low murmur of conversation was relaxing. First he saw Petra (sans one pair of arms) sitting in her desk, looking exhausted but noticeably glowing with a happy aura, and eating an unfamiliar food while chatting with Jessica. When Dib shifted his eyes over, he realized that he was not the only one sporting a new look.

Zim was sitting in his desk, drawing something on a piece of paper, and that was all pretty standard. What was unusual was his lack of uniform. He wasn't wearing the freshly pressed magenta uniform that he normally did, but instead he was dressed in a vaguely familiar oversized purple sweatshirt and black jeans. Zim pulled his sleeve over his hand and wiped his eyes, and his lieutenant flicked her eyes over to him for half a second. Jessica didn't seem to notice, though, and kept blabbering about how she had started texting Letty or something.

Dib, while curious, decided that listening in could wait. After dropping off his homework on Ms. Bitters' desk, he returned to his seat and laid his head down. He had a good ten minutes before class started, so it wouldn't hurt to take a little nap...

* * *

When Dib woke up the classroom was empty. He glanced around, unsure of whether it was a dream or not, and jumped when he felt someone tap on his back.

"Woah, woah, calm down," the person said. "It's just me."

His groggy eyes fell upon Petra's familiar form, and he groaned. "Your dress hurts my eyes."

Petra glanced down at her yellow dress, and let out a chuckle. "Maybe you shouldn't have slept through class, then."

"Slept through…? Oh my god, we had a quiz today!" he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in his seat. His panic wasn't met with a matching intensity.

"I took the quiz for you. I told Ms. Bitters you were temporarily comatose and that you would speak to me in morse code until you could write again," she explained, kicking her feet up on a neighboring desk and waving a dismissive hand. "You needed the sleep, and I guess I owe you."

"Oh. Um, thank you. If nobody's here… then it's lunch time?"

"I think recess just started, actually. Jessica asked me to come out, but, you know," she crossed her arms and leaned back. "I didn't think leaving you to just sleep through the whole day was a good idea."

Dib took one look outside and despite the amount of cloud cover that had accumulated since that morning he determined it was simply too bright. "So, uh," he began, "why do you owe me, again?"

"For last night. If you and the Gaz hadn't been there I'm not entirely sure that I would have been able to come back home- I mean, to Earth. I have no idea what my invader would have done," she added quietly, a dry chortle escaping from under her breath.

"Your invader meaning Zim, yeah?"

"Oh yes, that's who I'm talking about."

Dib paused for a moment before coming to the joyous realization that their deal still, in fact, stood and he could ask absolutely anything he wanted. "How come you don't call him Zim?"

"Can't. It's against my programming, the wiring in my brain. It's kind of a respect thing, like how you can't just call a teacher by their first name, except I physically cannot say my invader's name," she replied briefly. This wealth of information at his disposal was more than exciting, and Dib silently cursed himself for leaving his notepad in the pocket of his trenchcoat at home.

"So how are your arms? All of them, I mean."

"I got them to go down about an hour ago. I was starting to suffocate in that giant flannel trying to hide them, so I was pretty relieved when I got back down to just the two," Petra said, jabbing a thumb at the large dark green flannel on the desk behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"I mean, nothing major happened to me, so I'm perfectly fine- if not a little tired. I mean, why would you need to ask?"

"Ah, well, humans are very particular about fairness, or so I've heard. How about the brother Gaz?"

"She stayed home, but she's just tired- and hey, I've heard you call Gaz my sister before. Quit it with the articles, you know better." To his surprise, Petra split into an apologetic yet mischievous smile.

"Sorry, sorry, I know that it's just Gaz. I'm just- how do you put it here- pulling your leg."

It was ever so slightly apparent why Jessica called her Pixie all the time. Considering how Zim had no ability to read someone, it was more than unexpected for his lieutenant to even understand how to tell a joke, much less let go of her seriousness. "No offense, but you didn't really strike me as the 'funny type'," Dib joked, throwing up some air quotes. "What's got you in a good mood all of a sudden?"

"I've, uh, 'yanked your chain' before, you just never knew it. It just wouldn't have been funny to you. And well, I've just been feeling strangely elated since our return to Earth. I'm sure it's the reunion with my invader, but also…" Petra suddenly huffed and scratched at the back of her neck. "I guess I'm also pretty happy to be on this planet," she muttered.

Dib raised an eyebrow, but didn't push any further. "You 'yanked my chain'? When exactly was that? I'm quite a perceptive person, if you haven't noticed," he bragged. Petra gave him a once over and (more obviously than she intended) rolled her eyes.

"Well, I wasn't lying when I said I didn't understand why humans celebrated birthdays, seeing as you all don't die so quickly in relation to your natural lifespan. I also wasn't lying when I said I hadn't checked my own age in a while, since it isn't important to someone like me, but our big scary alien culture _does_ celebrate birthdays. It's a tradition usually saved for foot soldiers and the like," she said. "Usually they all get together and drink, and then they measure up against one another and whoever is the tallest has to pay for a round for the whole squadron and sing some stupid song so that their comrades will have something to remember them by when they become Tallest." Briefly, she paused and laughed at herself. "Of course, by that time they've stopped growing and there isn't a chance that they'd become tall, but tradition is tradition."

Dib found himself absolutely enamored with the concepts presented to him, but something held him back from immediately diving in. "Quick sidebar- why was Zim dressed like that today?"

She blinked in surprise, and then mumbled something incoherent before taking her feet down and resting her chin in her hands. "It's nothing important, but if you really want to know…"

* * *

" _And you're absolutely sure you'd rather be on Earth than Tetrox?"_

" _Sir, I never said any of those things, I was being remotely controlled. Of_ course _I would rather be here. You're on Earth, not on Tetrox," Petra repeated. The hatch of the Voot Cruiser popped open and she slid out, offering a helping hand to her invader who gingerly took it. "We're home and safe now, is there still something that's bothering you?"_

" _N-no, it's just," Zim swallowed hard and laid his antennae flat. "I'm just…" Gesturing with his hands in a vague manner did nothing to assuage his inability to verbalize his emotions._

 _Petra wanted to be annoyed with him, but she found herself hovering and fretting in a matter of seconds. Her invader was growing dark in the face from the attention, and the moment was only interrupted by the scuttling of a certain robot coming up the stairs. First, a little metal hand wrapped itself around the doorframe, and after it followed a glowing teal eyeball as GIR tentatively peering inside. "Master's home!"_

 _The robot wasted no time in scrambling inside the room and hopping up into the arms of his master, cheerfully babbling all the things that had happened after he was told to guard the house. "-and then I saw a fly and I sang the doom song and then I cried and then-"_

" _GIR. Hush. It's been a long trip. Let him be." Petra scolded, pulling gently on the android's antennae._

" _Lookit her arms, master! There's so many!" he squealed, unbothered by her tone._

" _They're not permanent, tin can, don't get your hopes up."_

" _Oh. Can I have them when you're done then? I wanna use 'em to hold more taquitos!"_

" _...Sure, GIR, I'll see what I can do."_

 _Zim laughed a little and caught his lieutenant's attention. The smile she shot back was warm and concerned, and he felt his face get even darker. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder and came closer._

" _You should probably eat something before we go- and maybe change. I'll go get you a clean uniform, okay sir?" she said, but he grabbed onto her with his free arm before she could walk away._

" _Petra, Zim- I mean I, um, don't think I wanna wear the uniform anymore." She was absolutely floored by the admittance, and it was for once obvious on her face what she was thinking. "Y-You wear Earth clothes, I just thought I should try it!"_

" _Of course, you can have some of mine for now… why, if I might ask, would you change your mind so quickly? I thought you were proud of wearing that uniform."_

" _Zim is proud of the empire! I… want to blend in even more! On Earth, for the mission. To please my Tallest. Yeah, that's it," he muttered to himself. While his facade was weak, Petra gladly took him down to the lair and to her room._

 _Masculinity and femininity were such outrageously human concepts, but still Petra knew that if Zim decided to wear something too cutesy that he would get teased more than he already was. In the state that they were both in, it probably wasn't a good idea to go out of routine, but if he wanted to wear human clothes than so be it. Digging through her dresser, she tossed a pair of black jeans and similarly dark socks behind her, and gestured to the pair of checkered slip-ons lying near the desk. "We aren't quite the same size, so I apologize if the clothes are quite plain. Besides, I have a lot more dresses than I thought I did…"_

 _Suddenly, she stopped her search and pulled out a large sweatshirt. Zim's eyes lit up when he saw it, and he struggled to mask his excitement when she turned around to show him. It was byzantium purple, with a logo for some space-basketball-cartoon movie on the front. "You can just put a white collared shirt under this and it would still look nice, I think. Besides, purple's your favorite color, isn't it?"_

" _H-How did you know?" he exclaimed, standing in the subterranean lair that he designed to be 90% in shades of purple. The lab that housed a hundred of his exclusively purple inventions, and was topped with a purple above ground house. That contained his purple Voot Cruiser._

" _I guessed."_

" _You really are smart. Yes, that shirt is pleasing to Zim, Zim will wear that one!" he declared in his normal braggart voice. Smiling, Petra tossed the sweatshirt and a white collared shirt to her invader who eagerly changed on the spot._

 _The loose clothes were strangely pleasant, even if the lack of gloves felt vulnerable. The sweatshirt was big enough that Zim could easily pull them over his hands to make sweater paws and rub them on his face, enjoying the softness of the thick fleece. Since it was preowned, there were already holes in the back for his PAK's ports, and he could faintly smell a very familiar and soothing scent on it._

 _While Zim was enjoying his new threads, Petra was digging through the drawers once again to find an outfit for the day. She needed something to cover up her arms until they went away, but also something she could take off later in case anything happened and she needed to be mobile. The events of the night prior were so unexpected that she needed to be on her guard until she was sure it was safe- unsurprisingly, her faith in her leaders was beginning to fade._

 _At the bottom of the drawer, she spotted a corduroy overall dress. It was a bright butterscotch yellow, and Jessica basically forced her to buy it. Truth be told, Petra wasn't fond of the color yellow in the slightest. It was bright and garish, and a little bit annoying. It screamed juvenility, and Petra couldn't bring herself to respect anyone who wore anything in its shade range._

" _Let me guess your favorite color," Zim said excitedly, and his lieutenant stopped herself to look back up at him. "I think your favorite color is… yellow!"_

 _His face lit up like a star, and his eyes glittered with eagerness. The huge grin on his face and warmth in his cheeks overflowed as he anticipated her response._

" _... Yeah, I love yellow. How did you know?"_

 _A quiet giggle bubbled out of the invader. "I guessed!"_

* * *

"You two are a lot closer than I thought you were," mused Dib as he turned around in his chair to lay his head on his arms.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she replied, flicking his forehead.

"Nothing, nothing. Hey, would you come over after school today? I have some tests I wanna run," he explained.

"Yeah, that's no problem. How about I walk with you?"

"Oh, uh," Dib sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe you shouldn't do that. You have a pretty good image, I wouldn't want you to ruin your disguise by hanging around me."

"You have a fair point-"

"You weren't supposed to _agree_ with me!"

"-but I already told Jessica I was tutoring you. I had a feeling you'd ask pretty soon. It wouldn't ruin my disguise because it looks like an exchange. Besides, I don't think people hate you as much as they think you're annoying and that you have a really big head- in the literal sense." While the head comment wasn't appreciated, it was actually one of the nicest things that a fellow student had told him before. Maybe it was because most of his fellow classmates were human. "I think Gretchen likes you, so there's one person on your side."

"Ugh, _Gretchen?_ Like, the girl with the braces? She kind of creeps me out, I think I'd rather eat lunch with my sister every day."

"Aw, don't say that. I've heard humans grow out of that sort of thing. Admittedly most humans looked abhorrent to me when I first arrived, but now they're tolerable. Sort of." Dib rolled his eyes.

"Wow. Thanks." Just then there was a knock on the doorway. In it stood two familiar figures.

"Oh, _schatzi_ , I didn't know you were friends with the Professor's son! I came by to ask how you were feeling since you left school sick yesterday," Mrs. Mayer said. "And I ran into Mrs. N on the way here. I also wanted to see if you wanted to come eat dinner with our family."

"Sorry Mrs. Mayer, I'm going to Dib's house to tutor him tonight. Besides, I wouldn't want to burden you," Petra replied, her voice apologetic. The teacher simply tutted and shook a finger.

"The dogs miss you terribly, _liebling_ , you ought to come over more often. If it were a burden I wouldn't ask!"

Mrs. N stepped forward and furrowed her brow. "I am sorry if I am being rude," she interjected, "but I have something very important to discuss with Miss Petra. May I…?"

"Oh! Of course, I'm so sorry. I'll see you later, children!" With that Mrs. Mayer promptly walked down the hall and away, and Mrs. N hesitantly approached the children and sat in a nearby desk. In her hands was a small folder of paperwork, and her face was non-threatening, but serious.

"Um, before we discuss this, would you like Mister Membrane to leave?" the counselor asked, sparing a glance in the boy's direction. Petra could feel her squeedlyspooch twist into knots. "It's about your guardians."

"No, I don't mind if he stays. What's going on?" Dib flicked his eyes from Mrs. N to the girl beside him, and saw her face shadowed with a hint of fear. He knew that the closest thing that she or Zim had to parents were those spastic robots, so this must have to do with Mrs. Mayer's allegations.

"The Skool Diztrikt decided to send some investigators to your home and talk with your parents. We attempted to call them using the listed number, but the call went straight to voicemail. When they arrived yesterday evening, no one answered the door. You are not in trouble, but could you explain what happened?"

 _Whoops._ The numbers listed as Zim and Petra's emergency contacts were, in fact, linked back to the lieutenant's cell phone. If they called last night, it would make sense that the call didn't come though- after all, her service plan didn't extend out of Earth's atmosphere.

"We were, um, at church. There was a church event and we couldn't have our cell phones on the entire night." Jessica had mentioned once that if you claimed that you did something weird or skipped something because of a religious reason, they wouldn't ask questions. At least, that's how she got away with skipping the first hour of class every other day.

"Ah. What were you doing?"

"We were… praying. All night. Somebody died."

"That's quite unfortunate! What is the name of your church?"

"We- uh- we go to… Church Number 5."

Mrs. N's dark eyebrows flew up. "To be clear- you spent the entire night praying at a church by the name of 'Church Number 5'?"

Petra swallowed hard. "Yeah, that's the place. My aunt and uncle went on a mission trip to commemorate the death, actually, so they won't be there if you come back tonight." Why did it have to be so much harder to lie on Earth?

"Right…" The counselor's doubtful expression was wiped away with a wave almost piteous kindness. "If they are not at your place of residence, then I am afraid that a search will have to be conducted, with a warrant of course. You will not be able to stay there, and for legal reasons you cannot be kept with Zim, your um… what is he to you, again?"

"Wait, where are we supposed to go? I want to stay with him, and I want to go home! Why do you need to search the house?!" She couldn't help but allow the frustration to seep into her voice, and she rose up out of her seat slightly. When Dib reached over and touched her arm, she jumped, but quietly sat down once again.

"I am very sorry, but there has been multiple anonymous calls and letters to the Skool Diztrikt and CPS about possible child abuse occurring in your home. For this reason, the police are legally allowed to conduct a search of your place of residence if your legal guardians are not available for questioning. You and your… Zim will be taken in for questioning as well, and during this time you are not permitted to stay together. I am aware that you have a dog, so one of you may take it with you."

The dark haired boy watched in disbelief as Petra, for once, struggled to find words. He knew what emotional turmoil she'd been in for the past day or so, and all the difficulty she'd faced since arriving on Earth (Dib playing no small role in that). But even when she was faced with the disappearance of her invader, she was able to lie her way into the lab and to her invader. Then something occurred to him.

All that time, no matter where she was at, she was able to play by Irken rules. Lie, steal, sneak, disguise, everything was universally Irken. Last night, sneaking into the lab, integrating into Skool society. But right now, she wasn't able to play by alien rules. Petra was abiding by unfamiliar human laws, where she saw not only new rules but a whole new game. There was one single advantage Dib had over Petra, and that was his knowledge of Earth, but even if she didn't know the rules, she could still win- _all he had to do was play the game for her._

"Mrs. N, what kind of allegations could Zim's parents really be facing? I mean, he's weird, but Petra's totally fine!" Dib interjected. "Really, what could 'anonymous source' honestly know?"

"Well, I am required to tell Miss Petra the allegations against her guardians, so to begin, Zim wore the exact same clothes for the two years he has attended this school, it appeared he had never seen any treatment for his skin condition or the lack of growth that may be attributed to malnutrition, and the guardians exhibited psychopathic and unpredictable behaviors. After Miss Petra arrived, the 'anonymous source' observed habitual absence of said guardians, possible violence in the home that has resulted in common behaviors in minor parties, no running water in your place of residence, and emotional outbursts and seclusions that are common amongst children that are hiding something. And it it says here that…" Mrs. N paused to adjust her glasses and lean closer to the paper she was reading. "'The dog is possessed', which is not really an allegation, but more of an observation, I think."

Dib turned to look at the lieutenant beside him who flashed a tiny, nervous smile. _How am I supposed to get you out of this one,_ he thought, not wishing to dwell on what exactly she had done to be deserving of his assistance.

"Mrs. Planckman has already agreed to take you into her home for the time being, but if we cannot find anyone to house Zim, he will have to go into the custody of law enforcement-"

"NO!" Dib exclaimed, catching the attention of the counselor quite well. "I mean, that's no problem, he can stay at my house! He doesn't have to stay with any government officials."

"'Love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them, expecting nothing in return.' I am glad you have extended your hospitality to someone you may not agree with all the time." She scribbled down a note onto the paper and tucked the pen behind her ear. "Now then, you may go home after school to collect your things, but have your temporary guardian call the school to confirm that they have you in their care. That would be Mrs. Planckman for you, Miss Petra. And also, both of you children will be required to visit with a psychologist after school for the duration of the investigation. You will be transported there by an off duty officer starting tomorrow. And, dear," she paused to place a tender hand on the child's shoulder, "everything is going to be sorted out. Place your faith in God, and He will deliver you."

With that out of the way, the counselor handed the paperwork over to the child and added that she also had office copies, and took her leave. In the silence, Dib glanced back at the alien and watched her stoically stare at the manila folder in her hands. _So much for playing the game._

"Thank you for taking my invader into your home, but may I ask why?" she inquired suddenly, and the boy cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

"I'll die if Zim gets found out and I didn't do something about it, so, you know. I kinda enjoy not being murdered."

"It wouldn't have been your fault if he was taken into custody. It would have been mine for my inability to keep it together when Mrs. Mayer visited that night," she cursed at herself. Just then, the children began filing back into the classroom after recess, and Petra said a hurried goodbye before rushing off to talk to Zim and show him the folder.

It was plain to see the alien's confusion turn to fear as she quietly whispered the situation to him, pushing the folder into his hands. If the boy looked closely, he could even read their lips. _I'm sorry sir, I should have been more careful._

 _No, no, it isn't your fault. What are we going to do?_

 _I…_ Petra pursed her lips together and looked away, and Zim gulped. His face flushed with an unfamiliar amount of concern and discomfort. Before she could reply, Ms. Bitter screeched at them to take a seat and dryly congratulated Dib on waking up from his short-lived coma. As he gave his quiet thanks, he couldn't help but drift in to his thoughts.

 _I hate to admit it,_ he thought, _but I think I'm getting too involved for once._

(A/N: I know I _said_ I wouldn't do it, but I skipped another week, and I think it's time I fessed up as to why this keeps happening. Because of personal circumstances caused by school and just general my-brain-don't-work-right, I've found myself struggling on the mental health front, and I'm rarely focused or motivated enough to write. It's no excuse, I know, but I genuinely apologize if chapters are slow or short for a little while. I'll try to put out more, shorter chapters in between to see if that might help my complete lack of inspiration, so you might be seeing some more non-plot related chapters for a hot minute. As always, please leave a review so that I can improve and I'm grateful for your attention. Thank you all for your patience as I desperately scramble to get my shit together.)


	16. Let's Talk (Author's Note)

hey guys. let's talk.

so it's been a while, huh? almost a year since my last update. uh, sorry about that. i do actually feel bad- abandoning this story kind of felt like abandoning my own child. but when i said i'd be slowing down due to poor mental health, i meant it. before i talk about the future of this story, i feel like i owe anyone who's read this far an explanation. if you don't wanna read it, just skip these next two paragraphs.

so i was going into my junior year at an entirely new school when i started this story. at my old school, i had friends that i'd known since i was a seventh grader, but at my new school i had maybe a handful of people i knew. my mental health was already poor, as i had dealt with severe anxiety for my whole life and i've been struggling with depression for a number of years. as a way of dealing with it, i stayed busy a lot, but i couldn't be as busy at this new school for a myriad of reasons, and that paired with being stripped of my roots pushed me into the absolute worst depression of my entire life. the first semester of my junior year is a black-and-white haze, and the second semester is better but it still wasn't very good. i genuinely wanted to continue to write this story, but the passion was gone for it. the passion to do anything was gone. i won't go too into detail about my state of mind so as not to trigger anyone, but it was downright dangerous in retrospect. a lot has happened since then, and i am a very different person than i was. depression doesn't go away, not when you let it go untreated for years like i have. and my anxiety is better, but not gone. i'm going to be a senior this year, i just passed my driving test and got my license today, i have new friends and a new computer. things are different, now, but i'm still writing and i'm still drawing and i'm still kicking. life goes on, whether you like it or not.

if i can get meta for a second, i think petra was a projection of myself. well, every author projects somehow onto their main character, but petra especially embodied how i was feeling. she was perfect in theory- got perfect scores, never fucked up, all the officials loved her. but deep down, she was fundamentally wrong. she would have been absolutely perfect if it weren't for zim, or dib, or gaz, or anybody else. and, well, she would have been very very boring. but i always did good in school, i always behaved. my teachers almost always liked me. but deep down i knew that something was wrong with me, and that i would never really fit in. just like petra, i didn't feel like i was viewed as a real person. realizing that was scary, i'll be honest. sometimes i really do still feel like an alien walking around among humans who are none the wiser. sometimes it feels like i'm tricking people into liking me, tricking people into giving me time and effort and affection. i get afraid if i stop being the person they think i am, the people i love won't like me anymore. it turns out that people like who i am, though. and if someone doesn't, they can shove it right up their ass. i've come to realize that humans and i aren't all that different. petra knows, too.

for the people who read this story consistently and looked forward to my uploads: thank you. thank you so, so much. you will never understand how much it means to me when i get an email so many months later about someone favoriting this story, or how i looked forward to every review and remembered all of your usernames. i talked about you guys to my mother and my friends because it meant so much to me that someone thought i wrote something worth reading. i can never thank you enough.

anyway, here's the question of the day: aubri, are you gonna finish writing this god forsaken novel length bullshit or not?

my answer? a resounding... HELL YEAH!

realistically, i don't know for sure (school's starting back up again and all), but i certainly want to. the movie just came out and i'm feeling some type of way. there's another fic in the works at the moment based on it, so know that i still love invader zim. and i'm not gonna let 70k+ words sit in squalor! i still can't believe the sheer amount i wrote in those three or four months. but petra's story was far from over, and there is a planned ending, and i hit a few roadblocks on the way. when this story is continued, i won't be rewriting much. if i rewrite anything i'll probably just retcon some shit JK Rowling style and repost the chapters in their entirety. by the way, i've been writing this whole time, but i'm on ao3 now. if this story gets continued, it will be on there, so be sure you're watching there instead of here for updates. i'll need some time to do a full write up of the story plot because i actually plan stuff out in advance now because disorganization has not served me well. if you wanna see any of that, i'd suggest peeping my twitter. but be on the lookout for petra and other zim content in the future! i'm not letting go of the fandom that easily! thanks for being loyal readers, and thanks for being kind. i hope i'll see you guys really soon.

my ao3: summersatellite (i've got pokemon and mob psycho content right now, but zim is on the way!)

my twitter: officialslumlord (lots of updates on stories and such, and me trying to be funny)

my main tumblr: borgerman (mostly reblogs but you can find some art in there)

my side tumblr: summersatellite (this is basically my guzma blog)

(side note, if any of you end up on the hell on irk discord server, please say hi! i'm aubri, and a lot of my very close friends are on there, so it's a lot of fun! and chaos. fun chaos!)


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